When Ianto arrived home on Wednesday night he found, amongst his post, the tickets for A Christmas Carol at Caldicot Castle; on Thursday morning he stared at them for a long while before shoving them into a pocket with an overwhelming sense of anticlimax.  Of course he could still go – he definitely probably possibly would – but he’d be going alone.  The pleasure had been sucked out of the occasion and he only had himself to blame, so no point in whining about it.

Probably just as well, he considered, as he made his way in to work to face an increasingly exuberant Jack.  The captain would probably treat the whole thing as a bloody pantomime, on his feet and hollering ‘behind you’ at Scrooge every time a ghost appeared.

That made Ianto smile for the wrong reasons, but it was better than sulking.

…

Jack didn’t waste any time: Ianto barely had his computer in the Tourist Office booted up when a new window appeared.

INSTANT MESSENGER TRANSCRIPT

JACK:  I watched you arrive on the CCTV.

IANTO:  That’s an improvement.  At least you’re stalking me from the comfort of your own den of iniquity.

JACK:  I’m pleased to see you.  It’s been a long night.

IANTO:  Myfanwy playing hard to get, is she?

JACK:  I miss you.

[  IANTO is typing a message  ]

IANTO:  Come and talk to me.

JACK:  You think we’ll end up fighting?

IANTO:  Probably.

JACK:  Then I won’t risk it.  I’ll just smile when you bring the coffee, and you’ll know that beneath that smile I’m undressing you in my mind and covering the most interesting parts of your anatomy with coffee-flavoured saliva.

IANTO:  Have you eaten?  I’m prepared to risk being both coffee-flavoured and garnished with toast crumbs if you’re hungry.  All in your mind, naturally.

IANTO:  Your mind’s very messy, Jack, while I’m there I’ll run a duster round.

IANTO:  What would you like to eat?

JACK:  Fucking hell, Ianto, I miss you.  I MISS YOU.

IANTO:  Jack?

JACK:  I’m going out.  I’ll use the lift.

[  JACK has left the conversation  ]

[  Ends  ]

Ianto rose and edged away from his computer, disconcerted by the rapid turnabout in Jack’s mood.  Dithering behind his chair he leant in and re-read the conversation.  It seemed harmless enough but the theme was obvious: long night, missing Ianto, unable to cope with basic kindness.  Jack was lonely.  It took all of Ianto’s resolve not to chase off after the captain, knowing that any present surge of empathy might be fatal to his plans to leave Cardiff with a minimum of regret.

His other colleagues eventually arrived and each asked after Jack the moment they discovered he wasn’t in the Hub.

“He was here when I arrived, but left soon afterwards; no, he didn’t say where he was going,” Ianto repeated constantly.  “No need to panic.”

“I’m not panicking,” they each replied, Toshiko with honest alarm in her voice and eyes, Gwen with poorly faked lightness, Owen with his renowned lemon-sucking face.

“It must be extraordinary to have your power over people,” Ianto told Jack when he strolled into the reception later that morning, arms laden with boxes and bags.

“Huh?”

“The moment you leave they all panic.”

“Don’t you tell them there’s no need?”

“I do, but I’m never too sure myself.”

The parcel under Jack’s left arm began to slide; Ianto nipped quickly around the counter and caught it.

“Christmas shopping,” Jack explained.  “It’s not why I went out, but once I was in town I thought, ‘What the hell, I’m already miserable, I might as well shop’.”  Ianto was subtly frisking the parcel in his hands.  “Hey, none of that!” Jack objected, and Ianto behaved.

“Want a tree?” Ianto asked.

“Tree?”

“Something to put the presents under?”

“No, I don’t think…  But…  What do you…  No.  Yes.  Yes, get a tree.  More importantly get mistletoe.  Get mistletoe but only put it where we go, nowhere near Gwen and Owen, I’m not taking any chances.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ianto smiled, and he opened the door for Jack, tucking the stray parcel back under Jack’s arm and ushering him toward the Hub.

“About earlier…” Jack began, obviously feeling awkward.

“You haven’t missed out.  Coffee and toast coming up.”

It was the best way Ianto could think of to say everything was as normal as was presently possible between them, and Jack gave an appreciative nod before stepping out of sight.

Locking up the reception, Ianto made for the kitchen, hands twitching as they recreated the shape of the object in the parcel.  Moon-gazing hare, he realised with a grin.  Nice.  A message of rejuvenation, plenty, and good fortune.  They could certainly do with all of that.

One round of drinks and snacks later and Jack was eager to wrap up what he’d bought, so he created a reason to make Gwen, Toshiko and Owen leave for the afternoon, practically throwing them out when they questioned his dodgy excuse.

Ianto took the opportunity to clean and tidy, listening as Jack’s voice drifted out of his office, seasonal songs that made Ianto determined to find a CD of carols sung in Welsh to play in the Tourist Office.  He found himself humming along, remembering Jack trying to persuade him to dance and wishing he’d gone along with it and learnt a few steps.  Sometimes, Ianto sighed, he was his own worst enemy, inflexible and scared of being out of control.

Ianto leant in the doorway to Jack’s office.  The desk was full of flamboyantly wrapped and dressed gifts.  Ianto hoped they were all as unpredictable as the hare.

“You were right,” Jack conceded.  “A tree.  Definitely.  I don’t know where, but I guess you’ll make the decision, whatever I suggest.”

“Would you like it in here?  There might be room if it’s not too big.”

“At least…eight feet of tree, thank you, Mr Jones.  If we’re going to do it, we may as well…do it.”

Ianto looked at a label, Jack’s bold hand wishing Toshiko happiness, lots of kisses.

“What did you get yourself?” Ianto asked.

Jack looked rather taken aback.

“I’m supposed to get myself something?”

“No, not supposed to.  I just thought you might seeing as you hate to be left out of anything.”

“What do you think I want?”

For once it wasn’t Jack playing games, or fishing, or attempting to lead Ianto into questionable territory.  Jack looked genuinely lost, and it made Ianto’s heart ache.

“How about…  Somewhere other than this to live?”  Jack looked at him with unbridled curiosity.  “I don’t particularly want to sell the house.  I’d be very happy if I knew you were living there, if you had somewhere comfortable to escape to when this place gets to be too much.”

“I, er…”  Jack’s voice trembled and he cleared his throat.  “I’ll think about it.”

Ianto nodded, and withdrew, thinking about ordering trees and decorations and definitely no mistletoe in this place.  He belatedly realised that, despite acting with the best of intentions, he’d turned into the meanest, stupidest, most insensitive prick that he knew.

INSTANT MESSENGER TRANSCRIPT

JACK:  Did I ever tell you how much I like it here when it’s just us?

IANTO:  You me and the Weevils.

IANTO:  Very romantic.

IANTO:  Don’t fancy yours much, mind.

[  JACK is typing a message  ]

IANTO:  We’re all right, aren’t we?

JACK:  I think we are.

[  JACK is typing a message  ]

JACK:  Are you making coffee?

IANTO:  Can do.  Mildly soothing, or want something to take your head off?

JACK:  I don’t care, I just want to see you.

[  IANTO has left the conversation  ]

[  Ends  ]

Ianto brought coffee and tea, they took it to the sofa and sat, either end, Ianto’s choice.  Jack took a long, deep breath, the beginning of getting something over with.

“I understand about Bryn.  Or rather, you not telling me about breaking up with him.”

“Do you?”

“It was self-protection, I can see that.  I hate that you felt it was necessary.”

“You’re quite a force, Jack.”

“I behaved abominably.”

“Yes.”

Jack looked at Ianto warily.

“Do I do that often?  Try to push you around?”

“Occasionally.  But you rarely succeed.”

“I’m glad.  I don’t know I’m doing it.  I mean…at work, okay, I accept that it can be necessary: I like strong people around me but it has its drawbacks: how many times does one of my orders get obeyed without question?  But, on a personal level…  I’m bad at a personal level.  More than friendship, or sex, and I’m not sure I’ve ever had a clue.”

“I’m going to gloat,” Ianto laughed.  “Sorry, but…  I’m better than you at something.  I was the best boyfriend, with Lisa at least.”

“I bet you were.”

“How much of it is selective memory I don’t know, but it’s rare I get to gloat, so I intend to enjoy it.”

“I guess if it’s in the attention to detail you must be peerless.”

Ianto was hugely smug for all of three minutes.

“I’m done.  How was it for you?”

“You left me high and dry, baby.”

“So much for attention to detail.”

“It’s good to see you remembering that time with something other than grief.”

A non-committal nod and Ianto very obviously changed the subject by glancing at his watch.

“Shouldn’t they be back?”

“It’s going to take them a while to find the alien tech I sent them after.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t exist.”

Ianto tutted a reprimand and immediately switched on his headset; Jack mirrored his move, looking forward to eavesdropping on the team’s reaction.

“Owen, turn the SUV around, we’re dealing with a reporting error.”

“Can’t be, we’ve already found what we were looking for.”

Jack leapt up in his seat.

“What?  What have you found?”

“Well, it’s…  What the fuck!  You never said it had a guardian.  Bloody hell, the size of it, and…and those claws, you never said—”

A strangled cry followed and Jack was on his feet.

“Owen!”

“He’s taking the piss,” Gwen’s voice cut in.  “We’ll be back in about an hour at most.”

“Thank you, Gwen,” Ianto politely rounded off the conversation, up and turning off Jack’s headset before Owen could be verbally flayed.  “Leave it,” he told Jack.

Jack surprisingly acquiesced.  It might have been a result of their conversation about Jack’s pushy nature, or it might have been more to do with the fact that Ianto was now close enough for Jack to feel the heat from his body.

“Jack…  Do you have to look at me like that?”

“Yes.”

Ianto picked several fine sparkly threads from Jack’s dark blue shirt and hoped they weren’t anything to do with a present for him.  He’d never had a glam rock phase.  The expression on Jack’s face intensified with every touch.

“Drag your mind out of my trousers and think sweet and innocent Christmas thoughts, preferably ones that do not end in Owen’s seasonal evisceration,” he advised Jack.  “I hope I can find you an eight foot tree.  Beyond the height, any particular requirements?”

“Umm…  Trunk?” Jack suggested.  “Branches?”  Ianto’s eyes shone with amusement and Jack grinned.  “I could seduce you with stupidity, couldn’t I?”

“I’ll see you later, Sir.”

“Thank you, Ianto.”

“For…?”

“Wanting to see me too.”

…

Ianto tracked down a tree for the Hub and another for the Tourist Office, made several orders for decorations, and started to think again about smartening up the reception.  Which led to thoughts of leaving.  Which led to him finding a couple of boxes and organising what he wanted to take with him when he left.  Which led to a general sorting out of the files in the ante-room.

He ignored the toing and froing of his colleagues as the field team returned, then Jack and Gwen went out;  Toshiko and Owen left and Toshiko returned; everyone came back and everyone went out.  Jack and Owen returned.  Owen left and then Jack left.  Ianto contentedly ignored everyone and everything unless he was directly called upon.

It was, thankfully, during a lull in the backwarding and forwarding that he was pleasantly interrupted from his clearout by a middle-aged couple from Yorkshire.  Mr and Mrs Bracewell had found the Tourist Office by happy accident and proceeded to pick Ianto’s brain for local information, telling him all about their investigations into their family history and connections to South Wales.  He made tea and the three of them drank it over OS maps as Ianto studied their list of births, deaths and marriages, and pinpointed various locations.

Jack rushed in when Ianto was explaining a little of the pertinent history of St David’s Cathedral and froze for a split second on seeing legitimate tourists in the Tourist Office.

“Just a moment, Sir, I have that information you wanted,” Ianto covered smoothly, nipping into the ante-room and writing a note to remind Jack that the tea boy’s replacement needed an extensive knowledge of the area and shouldn’t the captain be doing something about interviewing for the post?

Jack took the leaflet Ianto offered.  Quickly reading the message on it, his face turned sour and he left.  Ianto happily returned to his customers.

Before the Bracewells departed, he gifted the couple with his tickets for A Christmas Carol.  They were thrilled with his thoughtfulness and wrote down their home details for him, insisting that, should he ever be in the Helmsley area, he must drop in and catch up with them.

Jack had apparently been waiting for them to leave.  The second they were gone he was back and locking the door behind him.

“I think I could do that job full time,” Ianto told him, ignoring the narked expression and returning to the weeding out of obsolete literature.  “Very satisfying.”

Jack peered into the ‘personal’ boxes.

“What are you doing?”

Ianto glanced in Jack’s direction.

“Oh, they’re just some things I want to take with me, my own and a few souvenirs from the shop.  I didn’t think anyone would begrudge me a gonk and a Love Spoon.  The Torchwood material isn’t heavily classified, and seeing as it’s going with me to…”

“Ianto.”

“Sir?”  Paying proper attention, Ianto finally noticed how unhappy Jack was.  “What’s wrong?”

“This.”

“If you’d rather I didn’t take the…”

“I thought we were okay.  The situation – our situation – has improved.”

“Yes, it has.”

“Then…won’t you reconsider?”

“The situation has improved inasmuch as I can bear to work out my notice.”

“Is that all?”

“Ah, c’mon, Jack, be fair.  At times it’s been almost impossible for me to be both here and sane.”

“Don’t you have any qualms about leaving me?”

“I’m not leaving you, I’m leaving this particular job.”

“You’re leaving me.”

Ianto didn’t want to get angry; he made himself relax.

“Suit yourself.”

Back to sorting through the box files in the Tourist Office ante-room, Ianto ignored Jack and continued throwing out the old season’s leaflets.  Jack paced and fumed.

“You want to know what I think this is about?” he snapped the moment Ianto stepped back behind the counter

“No,” Ianto said with sincere disinterest.

“This is about revenge.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I left you and now you’re getting even with me by doing the same.  You’re punishing me for doing what I had to do, you want me to suffer.”

Ianto looked at him in shock.

“No, Jack.”

“What then?  ‘Cause I can’t figure this out.”

There was a long silence while Ianto decided what exactly to tell Jack, how basic an explanation.  Selectively edit out the complicated stuff?  Ianto had to.  So…  Bottom line.

“I can’t be hurt anymore,” he told Jack, unable to look at him.  “I cope, that’s what I do, but I can only cope with so much.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I believe that…”

“Then…”

“…but I no longer trust you.  Not like I did.  I doubt you wanted to hurt me last time, when I trusted you above all things.  You felt the reason you had to leave was of the greatest importance, and I’m in no position to dispute that.  Neither of us can say for sure that it won’t happen again, some unforeseen set of circumstances…”

“That’s true,” Jack agreed.  “I can’t promise you that I’ll never leave again.”  Jack saw the instant hurt on Ianto’s face before the unreadable mask snapped back into place.  “But I can promise that, if I have any choice in the matter, you’ll be coming with me.”  No response from Ianto and insecurity set in.  “If that’s what you want.  At the time.  Why do I feel like everything I say is wrong?”

“Because you’re learning?”

Jack gave Ianto an old-fashioned look.  Ianto passed him a rubbish bag full of defunct tourism guides and indicated for him to put it outside, which he did.

“Do you remember the first time we had sex?” Jack asked on his return.  Ianto looked at him suspiciously, eyebrow artistically cocked.  Jack groaned.  “Why d’you have to do that?  You know how hot that is?”

“What is?”

Jack hurried to Ianto and stroked his left brow, teasing it back into an arch.

“That.  You do that and I want to fuck you.”

“You’re horny.  I only have to be in Wales and you want to fuck me.”

“Well…yeah.”

“You should do something about that.”

“I keep trying, but you…”

“Go out, get laid.”

“I tried that too but I always seem to end up in your garden.”

Ianto sighed wearily and endeavoured to get back on what sounded like a fairly dubious track.

“Yes, I remember the first time we had sex.”

“Right, okay.”  Jack’s voice dropped, becoming confidential.  “The first time you came it was fast, it caught you by surprise.  A lot of guys might have felt vulnerable or been embarrassed but not you, not my beautiful, brave Ianto.  You trusted me enough to be honest, you simply said, ‘It’s been a while’.”

“I remember.”

Jack smiled, momentarily back in the past.

“If you hadn’t already had me wrapped around your finger, when you said that…”

“Your point?” Ianto prompted.

“This is…  I’m trying to be as honest with you.  I don’t have your courage, I feel so vulnerable I’m nauseous with it, but…I trust you, absolutely.  It’s been a while, Ianto, and the way I feel for you caught me by surprise.  That isn’t because you’re not completely adorable, because you are, but because I thought I…  I honestly thought…I couldn’t love.  Having someone real to care for, someone I can trust not to take off without me, scares me because I don’t know how to do this, I’m not sure I ever did, not well or right.”

The colour had drained from Ianto’s cheeks and he held up an unsteady hand to quieten Jack.

“Are you saying you—”

“How can you not know?  I…”

“No, don’t say it, I don’t want to hear it,” Ianto insisted in a panic.  “Go away now, go back to work, don’t say anything more.  Go away, Jack.  Go,” Ianto ordered when Jack showed no signs of moving.

Jack gave Ianto a understanding smile.

“It’s going to be hard if we’re both this scared.”

“Go away.”

“That was really difficult for me to tell you.”

“Yes,” Ianto nodded, panicking harder, “yes, I bet it was and…sorry, Jack, for this, sorry.”

“I was dreading telling you.”

“You haven’t, not really, not in so many words, best be off, yes, go?”

Ianto’s dread was rather endearing, Jack felt, and not as extreme as he’d feared.  He did as he was asked, leaving the building rather than returning to work: hopefully the cold, fresh air would quell the ongoing nausea.

Ianto stumbled into his ante-room and fell onto the only chair.  This couldn’t be happening.  He was meant to be safe with Jack, Jack would never lo—  He’d never lo—  Ianto couldn’t even think it.

It was incredible.  It was impossible.  It was impractical.  It was unworkable.  It should have been laughable.

It was fucking terrifying.

It was, very probably, the worst scenario Ianto could have come up with if he and a bunch of geniuses had created the Universe’s ultimate computer programme designed solely to come up with worst scenarios.

It was…very probably…

Mutual?

…

“Have you and Jack been fighting again?” Toshiko asked when she found Ianto later.

“No,” Ianto told her honestly.  “It’s much worse.  Much, much worse.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Should I know anyway?”

“No.”

Toshiko looked thoroughly relieved.

“Okay.”

“You off home?”

“Yes.  Want to come with me?”

Ianto considered and shook his head.

“You’ll get caught in the middle of this.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Toshiko went, but came back immediately.

“Sometimes I’m sorry I agreed he could come back.”

“Don’t be.”

“No?”

“No.  I’m not.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s a comfort, I’m not either, I just think if I was any kind of friend to you I would be.”

“You’re the best kind of friend.  A confused, honest liar.”

Toshiko tried not to laugh, tried to look insulted, and failed at both.  She gave a little wave and left.

…

“Have you and Jack been fighting again?” Gwen asked when she poked her head through the bead curtain, ten minutes after Toshiko had gone.

“No.”

“Shall I speak to him?  Or slap him?  Let me slap him.”

“If you slap him it will have to be purely for your own enjoyment.”

“Come home with me, come and have a bit of dinner and meet Rhys properly.  His stories might not be quite as genitally based as Jack’s but he can still raise a smile.”

“Not tonight.  But I appreciate you asking.  Another time?”

“Are you just saying that?”

“No, I’d like to.”

Gwen beamed.

“All right.”

“’Night, Gwen.”

Gwen went, but came back immediately.

“Not even a little slap?”

“Goodnight, Gwen.”

…

“Have you and Jack been fighting again?” Owen asked as he strolled into Ianto’s refuge and sat on the edge of the table.

“Yes.  But we made up on your desk.”

“Bollocks, you did.”

“Twice.  I’d let that top drawer dry out for a while before sticking your hand in there.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“That’s Jack, that is.  I’ve never known anyone like him.  A couple of days without and he could extinguish an inferno in a single wank.”

“Oh, gross—  Hang on.  That implies that he was…”  Ianto raised his eyebrow intimidatingly.  “I always had him down as a top, complete and utter.”

“You mean you haven’t heard the, ‘In this Universe it pays to be flexible, and I’m flexible in ways you’ve never dreamed of,’ monologue?”

“How flexible is flexible?” Owen asked, intrigued despite knowing better.

“A word of warning.  Keep away from the peanut butter in the kitchen.”

Owen’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

“Even the crunchy?”  Ianto’s telling look was advice enough.  Owen really, really knew better, but he couldn’t help asking, “This reputation of his.  Is he really…”

“Fabulous.”

Owen blinked in surprise.

“I’d’ve bet anything against you telling me that.  Telling me any of this.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m lying through my teeth.”

“Ahh.  So, he’s not…”

“Yes, he is.  Fabulous.”  Ianto gave a brief, humourless laugh.  “If memory serves.”

They sat in deep, meaningful, contemplative silence for all of five seconds.

“Drink?” Owen offered.

“No.”

“Right.”

Owen left, and didn’t come back.

…

Ianto braved the Hub.

“Jack?” he called.  No answer.  “Jack?”

Wandering through into Jack’s office, he looked for any clues as to whether this absence was due to anything other than the captain stepping out after their conversation.  He wondered if his less than heroic reaction to what Jack hadn’t actually been allowed to say had been enough to finally persuade Jack to find company elsewhere.  Despite his constant encouragement for Jack to do just that, Ianto’s stomach lurched at the thought.

“I’ll kill him.”

“Kill who?”

Ianto started and turned.  Jack was studying him curiously.

“Why didn’t you answer when I called?”

“Kill who?  Is this about Owen?”

“No.”  Ianto donned his professional face.  “Did you want anything before I leave, Sir?”

“I want to know who you’re about to kill.”

“You.  But not you.”

“I have a double?” Jack asked uneasily: after all, nothing was impossible.

Feeling an utter fool, Ianto fought down the urge to laugh long and hard at himself.

“Ignore me.”

“I don’t want to ignore you.  Why were you going to kill me?”

“I, umm…  I didn’t think you were here.”

“And…?”

“And I thought you might have taken my badly considered advice.”

“Your—  Oh.  You thought I was out screwing around.”

“Without any good reason to think it.  I apologise.”

Expression unfathomable, Jack shook his head and walked away.

“Go home, Ianto.  Sleep well.”

“Are you staying here tonight?” Ianto called after him.

“Yes.  Don’t worry.  I won’t be breaking in at two in the morning.”

“Good,” Ianto lied.  “Good.”

Attrition 20       Attrition Index       Attrition Notes

Site Updates     Update List     Home     Fiction     Gallery     Links     Feedback