After a peaceful Sunday, undisturbed by anything other than at least two texts an hour from Jack, Ianto was looking forward to another relaxed week, but early on Monday he was passing through the Hub with more armfuls of documents when Jack called out to him.

“Ianto, what are you up to?”

“E to G, Sir.”

“No, I meant—  Leave that for now, c’mere.”  Jack gathered his team around him.  “Welsh-speakers, one step forward,” Jack instructed and, naturally, Gwen and Ianto took a step.  “Okay, you’re out in the field today.  Not a big deal, just enquiries, but the villagers you’re going to be dealing with have the reputation for refusing to use the English language.”

“What are we looking at?” Gwen asked as she took out her PDA to make notes.

“Over twenty sightings of an unknown air vessel in the past six days.  We need to know whether or not this is a hoax, ‘cause I’m thinking more News of the World than Torchwood Chronicle.  I’ll show you the sketches I’ve been e-mailed and you’ll see what I mean.”

“And where are we going?”

Jack hesitated for the briefest tell-tale second.

“Mynarth Wells.  Brecon Beacons.”

They all unconsciously looked to Ianto, recalling his baptism of fire in the field, about thirty miles from where they were headed today.  Ianto, however, was oblivious to their concern, staring blindly past Jack’s shoulder as he reminded himself to breathe and be calm and that Brynblaidd could never happen again.

“Are you coming along, Jack?” Gwen enquired lightly, trying to sound like this wasn’t a problem as her right side introduced a psychosomatic ache to the proceedings.

“No.  Just you and Ianto.  We’ll be available to back you up if you should need it, but you won’t – wait until you see the sketches.  I’ll print out what information I have.  Meantime, Ianto, you may want to get changed into something a little less Savile Row.”

Toshiko and Owen volunteered to go along at precisely the same moment, but Jack airily shooed them back to their work stations.  Being as blasé as possible he left to compile what his team would need, but his heart ached for Ianto, and seeing him ushered away by Gwen was enough to rouse every protective instinct in his body.  But this was potentially a genuine case, a necessary investigation, and he couldn’t treat Ianto any differently from the others.  The fact that Jack might have a nervous breakdown before Ianto was out of the city was neither here nor there; he trusted Ianto and needed to test himself.

Information packs compiled, Jack left Toshiko and Owen to organise what was needed on the SUV and hurried to the men’s changing room to have a private moment with Ianto.  Slipping inside the door, Jack found Ianto, ready to go but standing motionless in the centre of the room, deep in troubled thought; he exuded misery and was so caught up in his memories he didn’t even notice Jack’s presence.

“Ianto?”

Ianto slowly looked toward Jack, making an effort to throw back his shoulders and stand tall.

“Had to be there, didn’t it,” he said grimly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.”

“I can’t change this.  I need you and Gwen to go.”

With a nod, Ianto attempted to leave the room; Jack blocked his path.  At Ianto’s curious glance, Jack reached up and slid his hand to the back of Ianto’s neck, pulling him close and holding him despite the lack of reciprocation.

“You can do this,” Jack promised, lips against Ianto’s cheek.

“I know,” Ianto replied coldly, although his body was already relaxing against Jack’s.

“Say the word and I’ll come along.”

“What word’s that?  Coward?”

“How about…support.”

“I’m not a coward.”

“I know that.  Everyone knows that.”

“I managed when you were gone,” Ianto insisted, but then added ruefully, “Never had to go there though.”

“I meant for us to visit one day, just the two of us.  To remind you how benign and beautiful that area is.”

“I would have liked that.”

“Ianto,” Gwen called from outside.  “All right, Love?”

“Come in,” Jack told her as he released Ianto.  “Okay,” he addressed them both with an encouraging smile.  “This is a waste of our time, I know, but have a good day, take diversions, thrash your expense accounts, bring us back something nice.”

Jack was pleased to see that his casual manner was infectious, and as the three wandered up to the SUV the conversation was good-humoured and relatively relaxed.  However, the first chance he had to get Gwen alone, Jack’s demeanour changed significantly.

“Any sign of trouble, anything freaky at all, you get out of there, you get him out of there,” he instructed.  “Stay together and take every care.”

Gwen nodded and left him; Jack watched her climb into the SUV’s passenger seat, already chatting to Ianto about a TV programme she’d seen on fake UFOs in the States and having a bet over who’d be first to spot the strings holding up theirs.  A last wave and they were gone, but they’d left behind an atmosphere that could have been cut with a knife.  Toshiko glanced from Owen to Jack and back, estimating that Owen was on the brink of an eruption and leaving them to it with a muttered,

“Doughnuts.”

Owen pursued Jack to his office.

“You think I’m a bastard but how cruel was that?” Owen snapped as Jack sat at his desk.  “You seem to have forgotten that Gwen was shot the last time she was out there, and Ianto…  He looked bloody petrified.”

“It’s necessary.”

“It’s hardly a commendable way to exert your authority.”

“Until we all learn Welsh…”

“Is this your way of punishing Ianto because he won’t bend over for you?”

Jack turned a frigid look on Owen.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“No.  Don’t.  Remember it.”

“He – they – will come back stronger.  How do your exorcise your ghosts if you don’t get a chance to face them?”

“That’ll be a comfort when Ianto’s on my mortuary slab, dead from fright.”

“He’s stronger than you imagine.”

“I know how strong he can be: I’ve got the scar to prove it.”

“So, what’s your point?”

“My point, Captain, is that as Torchwood Three’s doctor, I am obliged to voice my concerns over the wellbeing of the team, and you, as our so-called leader, are obliged to take notice.”

“So-called?”

“Stick to the bloody point!”

“The point, okay.  I hear what you say, Doctor Harper.  Close the door on your way out.”

“Is that it?  You send the tea boy to exactly the kind of place that’ll turn him into a gibbering wreck and that’s it?”

Owen’s description of Ianto’s position was deliberately provocative, but Jack refused to rise to the bait.

“Tell me, Owen, if I hadn’t sent him despite needing a native, what accusations would you be hurling at me now?”

It was a decent point and they both knew it; Owen turned on his heel and stormed away, only to be called back within five minutes.

“What?”

“As our Archivist is in the field, I need you to find me some files.”

Jack jotted down a few details as Owen glared daggers at him.

“I’m a fucking doctor, this is a waste of my time.”

“Necessary research.”

“Research is for wimps.”

“Do this or leave for the day.”  Owen gave a derisory snort.  “I’m not kidding,” Jack warned, and he held out his list.  After a long minute Owen snatched it up and marched away, and Jack’s face broke into a slow smile.  He’d miss Ianto, but at least he had Owen to play with.  Mmm…Ianto.  Jack switched on his headset.

“Ianto!”

“Captain.”

“Where are you?”

“The A470.”

“Is this a good time for phone sex?”

“Only if you’re in the mood to identify our bodies, Sir.”

“You think Gwen’s up for it?”

“Only if you want to identify your own body when I get back.”

“You’re exceedingly possessive for someone who’s not interested.”

“Don’t confuse self-preservation with disinterest.”

“So you don’t think…”

“Unless you let me concentrate we’ll end up in Swansea.”

“Okay.  Stay in touch.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Obviously, Gwen couldn’t avoid hearing Ianto’s end of the conversation.

“What was that about?  The identifying bodies?”

“Phone sex.”

“Ah.  I haven’t been able to keep my promise very well, have I?  I’m sorry.”

“Promise?”

“That Jack wouldn’t pester you.”

“It’s not too bad.”

Gwen tried to be casual, but the following question was as good as signposted.

“Any chance that you’ll reconsider the move then?”

“Tell me about this place we’re going to,” Ianto immediately changed the subject.  He thought about where they were headed and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.  “Maybe don’t tell me if it has an abattoir.”

…

Jack couldn’t fail to notice that it was Gwen who regularly reported in, rather than Ianto, and that was fine because he appreciated her constant reassurances.

The village was tiny, cosy and insular, very middle of nowhere, the villagers guileless and helpful, not at all as Jack had presumed, their avoidance of the English language being purely practical because they simply couldn’t speak it well enough to communicate all they had to.

Since the reported sightings were regular in occurrence it made sense to wait until the usual time and check the phenomena out for themselves.  Jack agreed, accepting their continued absence and concentrating his attention on tormenting Owen in punishment for voicing what were essentially Jack’s fears about the whole mission.

Toshiko came and kept Jack company for a while, trying to tease a little information out of him about his recent travels, but he was less than forthcoming and turned the conversation around time and again to ask what he’d missed, here, on Earth, while he was gone.

Owen regularly barged in and out of the office, and eventually stayed around long enough to harangue Jack for a full ten minutes without visibly stopping for breath.

“It’s a fucking labyrinth!” he concluded as his focus returned to the main archive.  “Have you seen the size of it?”

“What were you expecting?  Two filing cabinets and a shoebox?”

“Give me aliens invading Merthyr Tydfil any day.  Ianto’s working on E to G?  I couldn’t even find E to G!”

“The south-east catacombs,” Jack explained.  “I’m sure Ianto would show you around if you asked him nicely.  He’ll even introduce you to the ghost of R to T.”

Owen shuddered: he’d had his fill of ghosts.  If the options were Weevil or apparition, he’d take the stroppy little bastard with the wrinkles and teeth.

“I’m not going back down there.”

Jack’s smile was classically piss-taking, but his body language theatrically apologetic as he held up his latest list.

“Actually…”

…

Once he knew that Ianto and Gwen were on their way back, Jack was unable to concentrate on his work for a moment, pacing and fidgeting and drumming his knuckles on any available surface, generally driving Toshiko and Owen to the point where they were discussing sedation.

The CCTV showed the SUV arriving and Jack was up to the Tourist Office like a shot, yanking open the door and waiting impatiently.  Gwen was joking about an incident with the wildlife as they arrived at the Office, and, before Ianto could respond, Jack dragged him inside, knocking several carrier bags out of his hands and looking him over like an over-protective mother, anxiously rubbing his arms while Ianto gazed at him, thankfully in amusement.

“You’re okay?” Jack demanded.

“You knew I’d be okay.”  Jack nodded and Ianto caught his hands to still them.  “Thank you for that.”  Jack nodded again, still studying Ianto and seeing a warmth in his eyes that he’d almost forgotten.

A last squeeze and Ianto dropped Jack’s hands, stooping to collect up his bags.  Gwen waved some carriers of her own.

“We bought you something nice,” she said, a reflection of what had been instructed before they left, and she led them into the Hub.

“How did it go?” Toshiko asked brightly as they appeared, relieved to have heard the cheerful banter on their approach.

“Our alien vessel turned out to be a homemade model aircraft in the shape of a blimp,” Ianto explained.  “The owners were driving out into the countryside to test it in safe surroundings, they didn’t have any idea that Mynarth Wells was over the hill.”

“The whole day was wasted then?”

“No,” Ianto assured her, aware of how much good the trip had done him, “not a waste at all.  We got to thrash the expense account, courtesy of Sir,” he nodded at Jack, who was positively beaming in delight.

Owen joined them, still feeling aggrieved at his time in the archives.

“Back, are you?  About bloody time.  Know what he’s had me doing all day?  Rummaging around your sodding crypt and…what’s all this?”

Gwen had emptied her bags and was looking through the tissue-wrapped parcels.  Ianto followed suit.  They distributed hairy, hand-knitted scarves, beanies and gloves, silver chains and earrings, slate paperweights, there was a felt hat…

“You went to the Beacons and brought back an Australian bush hat?” Jack laughed.

“Naturally,” Gwen said as she plonked it on him.

“Good fit.”

“We thought it would be.  We asked for one for a bighead.”

The insult sailed over Jack’s hatted crown.

“How’d I look?”

“Like a twat,” Owen volunteered.

Ianto arranged it to a slightly better angle.

“Suits you,” he told Jack, but the nearly imperceptible twist of his mouth might have indicated something other.

…posh ties, posher pens, handmade-paper notebooks, shawls, fudge, Bara Brith, and bottles of Old Rosie.

As they dispersed with their treasures Ianto started off to the locker room to get changed.

“Ianto, are you—” Jack broke off his question, seeing Gwen’s prayer stance out of the corner of his eye as she silently begged him not to ruin the moment.

Ianto turned back.

“Am I…?”

Jack wavered.  And caved.

“Nothing.”

“No.  More of a something,” Ianto corrected.  “Am I what?  Free tonight?”  Jack shrugged apologetically.  Ianto smiled.  “Actually, I could be.”

“You, uh…”

“Just the pub?”

“Sure.”

“We all going?”

“Yes,” Gwen and Toshiko chorused.

“Yes,” Jack added belatedly.

“Good.  I’ll just make a call.”

Ianto left and Jack turned to the women, playing at being comically stunned and enjoying their appreciative laughter.  So what if Ianto’s first consideration had been to phone Bryn, Ianto was with him for the next couple of hours.

Time to spruce up; Jack hurried to his under-office quarters, slapping Owen around the back of the head as he went.

“Oi!”

“I was right,” Jack crowed.

“You were lucky.”

“I was right.”

…

Their usual pub proved to be a little noisy so they moved on to a quieter bar, somewhere restful where there was no need to scream to make themselves heard.  Jack bought the first round, and it was commented upon that he was, once again, drinking alcohol rather than water, but he brushed the observation aside with disinterest.

The atmosphere was excellent between them – even Owen had stopped whingeing – and Ianto could feel he was in trouble as he was reminded of how much he liked Jack.  Beyond all the carefully worded questions about the day and the deep consideration, the man’s charisma was overwhelming; when he found himself concocting plans that involved the two of them being left alone for a while, Ianto made a hasty excuse about calling Bryn and went out into the bar’s garden.  He even faked a call, not knowing if he was being observed.

Wanting Jack and missing Bryn, Ianto remained outside when his fake call fake ended, gazing up at the stars and wondering how many Jack had visited.

“All right?” Toshiko asked as she strolled out to join him.

“Fine,” he answered, but the smile that should have backed up the statement was sadly lacking.

“We haven’t had much of a chance to talk since the hospital.”

“No.”

Toshiko came closer and linked her arm through his.  Ianto’s surprise became a welcoming squeeze of her arm to his side.

“Bryn sounds nice.”

Ianto’s desire to be honest was fleeting; he wanted to turn back time, to have this conversation before he’d taken any drastic steps.  Still, he could pretend.

“He is.  He’s exactly what I need.”

“Shouldn’t you sound happier about that?”

“I should, shouldn’t I?”

“Exactly what you need, only…not what you want?”

“It’s such a mess,” Ianto groaned.  “Bryn loves me, and he deserves to be loved back, but…”  Once again Ianto looked to the sky, blinking furiously.  “I should have waited.  I should have had faith in Jack, and I should have waited for him.”

“Is that what you’ve been so angry about?”

“That’s not everything, but it’s enough.  And now I don’t know what to do.  The last thing I want is for Bryn to be hurt, but that’s all I have for him.  I don’t even want Jack to be hurt, but that’s going to happen when I leave, and I have to leave.”

Toshiko nodded sagely, then slipped her hand into Ianto’s and leant against his shoulder.

“Can I suggest a truly radical course of action?”

“Please.”

“How about putting what Ianto needs first?”

Too close to what he longed to hear, Ianto turned and hugged Toshiko hard.  It was the nearest he’d get to vindication over his treatment of Bryn, and a little of the oppressive guilt slid away.

Jack watched from inside the bar, reminding himself that if Ianto and Toshiko had any romantic interest in one another it would have manifested itself before now.  No reason to be jealous.  No reason at all.

The glass in his hand cracked under the pressure.

…

A good evening, they all agreed, before they went their separate ways as they left the bar.  Jack insisted on walking Ianto to his car and, all the way to the car park, Jack cracked jokes and told stories, barely pausing for breath as if in fear of what might be said if he stopped.

As Ianto unlocked his driver’s door silence fell, and he looked up to find Jack staring at him quite intensely.

“I was jealous,” Jack suddenly blurted out.

“Of what?”

Jack drew breath to speak, then stopped himself, feeling ridiculous.  He laughed.

“Everything and everyone that came within ten feet of you.”

“But you don’t do jealousy.”

“No, I don’t, that’s right.”

They gazed at one another over the roof of the car.

“I’d better…” Ianto eventually said, gesturing homeward.

“Yes,” Jack agreed.

More gazing.

“Thank you, Jack.  For having faith in me today.  I needed that.”

Jack shrugged self-effacingly.

“You didn’t have to prove anything to me.  You’re the toughest person to convince.”

“S’pose.”

“For example…what are my chances of convincing you to let me come home with you?”

Ianto knew he was taking too long to answer that question; Jack was already making his way around the car wearing an expression that suggested he was about to eat Ianto alive.

“You know I’m not going to do this,” he said sharply as Jack reached for him.

Jack’s hands diverted, resting on the car roof, either side of Ianto.

“You weren’t always this inhibited.  Bryn can’t be good for you.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Suddenly you want to talk?  I’ve been trying to talk to you since I got back.”

“Was he worth it?  The one you took off with.  Was he everything you wanted?  The ultimate fuck or just another conquest you’ll be telling exaggerated tales of?”

“That’s not what it was about.”

“No?  Tell me then, Jack, who was the last person – and I use that term loosely – you had sex with?”

Jack raised his hand and wiggled the fingers.

“You weren’t counting…?”

“No.”

“You,” the answer was without hesitation and not what Ianto had expected.

“Really?”

“Really.  And you, my questionably inhibited one, how many people – and I use that term equally as loosely – have you had sex with in my absence?”

“Five.  Two men, three women.  No non-human life forms that I know of.”

“Five,” Jack repeated thoughtfully.  “Enjoy them all?”

There was no point in lying.

“Not much.  There was a kind of…mindless, soulless month after I finally gave up on you.  I’m faintly embarrassed that it’s not more than five, but I scared off most interested parties by being too bloody miserable to tolerate.”

“And you found Bryn.  Who excites you so much you fuck and fuck and fuck.”

“He found me.  I got lucky, yes.”

“You ever call him Jack by mistake?”  Ianto’s cheeks flamed at that, and Jack instantly regretted his taunting.  “Sorry.”

“Liar.”

“These five…  You were careful, weren’t you?”

“Careful, as in…?”

“Stop thinking monsters, start thinking microbes.”

“You mean—”  Ianto turned on the heavy sarcasm.  “No, it never occurred to me to be anything less than flamboyantly reckless with my health.”

“I’m only asking because we never used anything.  You never even mentioned it.”

Ianto thought back.  When it came to Jack, safe sex hadn’t crossed his mind.

“I didn’t, did I.  Idiotic, I suppose, but that’s…  That’s how much I trusted you.  With my life.  In every way, I trusted you with my life.”

However matter-of-factly Ianto said the words, there was a wealth of feeling beneath them.  Jack’s eyes turned glassy; Ianto hated to see that, and he stroked Jack’s cheek; cold fingers, cold comfort.

“Did you love me?” Jack asked hoarsely, fearing the answer and terrified of what he might have lost.

“I don’t know.  I’m not sure what I felt.  I was…walking wounded.  I’m not sure I understood my feelings at all.  And…this would be me, not asking you the same question.”

“Ianto…”

“Don’t, don’t,” Ianto told him, running one hand around his waist, the other to the rear of his head, pulling him close and kissing him.  Meaning it, and giving up the fight when Jack grappled him and kissed back, desperate and fervent.

“Come with me,” Jack urged against Ianto’s mouth.  “The Hub, my bed, c’mon.”

“No.”

“You know it’s going to happen, Ianto, just let it happen.”

Ianto went rigid in Jack’s arms before prising him away, both insulted and infuriated by the man’s arrogance.

“Thanks.  That was exactly what I needed to hear to turn me off.”  Ianto shoved Jack back another three feet, which enabled him to open his car door.  “G’night, Jack.  Try to get some sleep.”

Ignoring Jack’s dumbfounded expression at the rapid turn in events, Ianto drove away; a glance in the rear view mirror showed the captain heading determinedly back in the direction of the bar they’d left earlier.  Turning on the Harkness charm, Jack would find it simple enough to pick up a partner for the night, and Ianto, with the phantom Bryn in his life and servicing his emotional and sexual needs, tried not to be hypocritical about it.  Easier said than done with the memory of Jack’s heated kisses vivid in his mind, and nothing but a cold, lonely bed awaiting him.

…

Around about the time when Ianto imagined Jack would be balls deep in his latest conquest, he received a call.  He spent so long wavering over whether to answer it in case Jack was phoning to gloat, the ringing stopped.  Two minutes later it began again, and this time Ianto knew he had to find out what this was about if he was to get any sleep at all.

“Jack?”

“More than thinking he had the answers, I thought he was the answer,” Jack told him firmly, sounding considerably less than sober.  “A doctor, not my doctor, not like you’re my Ianto.  You may be the Ianto, but you’ll never be a Ianto.”

“What have you been drinking?”

“Anything.  Everything.  There was a lot.  I went away because I had to, and I had to go because…because…I had to.  But the best thing I did was come back.”

“I’m trying very hard to be sorry you were disappointed.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No.  I’m smiling because I’ve never heard you like this before.”

“Have you ever been to Vienna?”

“No.”

“Let’s go to Vienna.  Vienna hurt me but you’ll make it better, you’ll kick Vienna’s fucking ass for your captain, don’t deny it.  Come with me to Vienna.”

“If it’s what you want,” Ianto humoured Jack, doubting he’d recall a word of this when he finally sobered up.

“And what does Ianto Jones want?”

“Other than Wales winning the Six Nations?”

“Is that top of the top of the list?”

“Top of the top, by a vast margin.”

“What comes second?  Other than a gentleman?”  Jack started to giggle at his own joke and Ianto couldn’t resist joining in.  “Ianto, my beautiful Ianto, what do you want?”

“What do I want?”  Ianto thought, and continued wistfully.  “Happy ever after.  I’m a simple soul.”

“Seriously?”

“No.  Simple but not deluded.”

“Can I be your happy ever after?”

“I seriously doubt it.”  Ianto heard Jack sniffle and shook his head in sympathetic disbelief.  “Go to bed and get some sleep.  Drink plenty of water first or you’ll suffer tomorrow.”

“Go to bed?”

“Go to bed.”

“Okay.”

The connection ended and Ianto could rest now.  He’d resume his preoccupation with Jack first thing.

…

Ianto stirred, trying to drag himself awake, instinctively knowing that something wasn’t quite right.  He opened one eye to see a dark form in his bedroom, but the tingle was there before any panic could set in.  Two blinks and the shadow became Jack, sitting on the opposite side of his bed.

“Go to bed, you said.  Can I stay?” Jack asked.

Taking the situation on board, Ianto knew he should wake and argue.  ‘How did you get in?’ was a good question that he couldn’t, at present, be arsed to ask.  Overall this was not good in more ways than he could, half-conscious, begin to list.  So much was wrong that the answer to Jack’s entreaty rapidly became obvious.

“Whatever.”

As Jack wobbled to his feet and undressed, Ianto turned his back, snuggling down and immediately drifting off to sleep.  Comfortably naked, Jack slid under the covers, keeping to his own side of the bed, but inelegantly shuffling around to stare at Ianto, proud of himself for resisting a touch, because he so wanted to touch.

He’d be awake all night, and he’d stare all night.  This was probably the last time he’d ever be in bed with Ianto so he didn’t want to waste a second of the staring.  This was comfort.  Not just the bed, which was positively luxurious, but the presence of the young man he’d come to appreciate in uncountable ways.  Comfort.  All night.  Jack remembered he’d forgotten to drink plenty of water.  He’d get up in five and take care of that.  But for now he wouldn’t sleep, he’d simply be quiet and stare and enjoy the comfort and enjoy Ianto.

He slept.

Attrition 12       Attrition Index       Attrition Notes

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