Ianto was in the shower, slightly groggy and with a pleasant ache that reminded him of what he’d been up to a short while before.  And a short while before that.  And then again before that.  Much nicer to reflect upon recent sexual antics than think about workplaces and finality, so it was hardly surprising that he had an admirable erection and a smug smile on his face by the time Jack joined him.  Hands roamed over Ianto’s soapy torso and a persistent mouth fastened on the skin of his neck and sucked, tongued, marked, sending shivers through Ianto’s body as Jack leisurely humped him.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Jack murmured.

“Shouldn’t be late on my last day,” Ianto replied in kind, pressing back hard against Jack and relishing the feel of the captain’s enticingly rigid cock sliding against his buttocks.

“You have a very understanding boss.”

“We can spend the whole day in bed tomorrow if you want.”

“One of us will have to work.”

“That’s a shame.  I’ll have to spend the time in bed by myself, thinking of what we could have been doing, and…”

“I have a very understanding boss too.  I’ll be here.”

Ianto chuckled and turned: one look at Jack and desire seemed to explode throughout his body.  In a split second Ianto was burying his hands in Jack’s wet hair and pulling him into a frenzied kiss, grinding their bodies together and making short, frantic work of their reawakened lust, slumping against the shower wall as one when their orgasms drained the strength from them.

“I love you, Jack,” Ianto whispered, and those breathless words were all that Jack needed to seal a decision about their future.  “How much is frightening.”  Ianto’s apparently sombre mood abruptly turned and he broke into a laugh as he proceeded to smother Jack’s face with more kisses.  “I love you.”

…

“Do something for me today?” Jack asked as they made slow work of getting dried and dressed.

“For the last time: I refuse to be under your desk when…”

“Not that.  For now, at least.”

“What then?”

“Come into work looking like you did that Sunday.  Y’know, when you…”

“I know.”

“Different t-shirt maybe, or they’ll think you hate me.”

Ianto didn’t even bother to think it over.

“If it’s what you want.”

Jack scratched his nails over the stubble on Ianto’s chin.

“And don’t shave.”

“Is there a reason you want me looking like your bit of rough?”

“Other than you being so incredibly hot that everyone melts in your presence?”

Ianto tutted and shook his head, and would never, even on pain of death, admit how secretly thrilled he was by that remark.

“I’ll have to wear something with a collar.  T-shirt won’t cover up…” Ianto touched the mark Jack had made on his neck.

“I really like the dark red tee with the laces,” Jack pseudo-casually suggested.

“Bryn bought me that.  Retro-tart he called it.”

Ianto’s last ditch attempt to retain some dignity had Jack grinning.

“He has good taste.  But then again…”  Jack’s eyes skimmed over Ianto’s form.  “…I already knew that.”

The dark red t-shirt then.  As Ianto suspected – knew – the lovebite was impossible to mask, however tightly he secured the laces at the neck.  So he left the laces loose, and embraced his inner retro-tart.  Jack looked well satisfied.  It was probably psychosomatic, but Ianto’s leg felt decidedly damp.

…

Reactions to the new look Ianto were both amusing and troubling.  Troubling, as in Toshiko being reminded that things were changing and feeling incredibly sad that Ianto was leaving them.  She dared to intrude upon his domain behind the Tourist Office counter to give him a hug and promise to keep in touch.  He reminded her that despite leaving, he’d be in Cardiff for Christmas, and they could get together then.  She went on her way a little happier for that, but Ianto couldn’t help feeling guilty for deserting her.

Gwen evidently had something on her mind and didn’t notice the change in Ianto’s appearance as she walked through to the Hub, but before the wall could close she turned back and gawped.

“Is this your revenge?” she asked in delight.

“Revenge?”

“God, yes.  Make him keep his hands to himself and he’ll be weeping by midday.”

Shortly after Gwen, Owen strolled in and came to an immediate halt, staring at Ianto.

“I know you said you were changing jobs but this is a surprise.”

He began to look around.

“What have you lost?” Ianto asked.

“I was looking for the tariff.”  Owen grinned salaciously and pointedly studied Ianto’s neck.  “Looks like I wouldn’t be your first customer.”

“You?” Ianto snorted.  “I’d have to be desperate, wouldn’t I.  More than desperate.”

Owen leaned on the counter, nodding Ianto closer.

“I’m damn sure he thought we had.”

“I know.”

“Should’ve led him on, shouldn’t we?”

“Why?”

“Would’ve been a laugh.”

Ianto considered.

“Mmm, I suppose it would have been amusing to see him shoot you.  And, of course, that would have saved me the trouble of eventually killing you.”

“He came back wonky,” Owen tapped his own temple.  “Sure you know what you’re taking on?”

“No,” Ianto admitted.  “But that’s half the fun.”

…

A little after ten-forty Ianto’s mobile rang.  He was halfway through serving an early elevenses so he juggled the tray in one hand and his phone in the other.  He took a short call from Human Resources at Torchwood One and, as it ended, he unconsciously let the tray and the last mug upon it crash to the floor.

Gwen was there in a second, helping to pick up pieces of china and stopping to show surprise when Ianto didn’t join her efforts.

“All right, Love?” she asked with quiet concern, but she soon realised he wasn’t paying attention to either her or the mess he’d made.  He was looking around, searching.

“Where’s Jack?”

After months of learning to interpret Ianto’s subtle nuances, his colleague recognised the I Am Being Fucking Reasonable voice and shuddered inwardly, knowing what usually followed.

“Don’t know,” Gwen said lightly.  “He was…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ianto cut in before Gwen could attempt any of her distraction techniques.  “I’ve found him.”

There, skulking at the rear of the boardroom.  Ianto was up the stairs like a shot, in the door and trembling with anger.

“Why?” he demanded of Jack, who stared at him, completely placid.

“It was the right thing to do.”

“How dare you?  It wasn’t your decision to make.”

“You’re a part of my team.  If I decide…”

“How stupid do you think I am?  This wasn’t a professional decision, this is more about you getting your own way, no matter the cost to anyone else.”

“Funny.  That guy in London understood perfectly when I explained the situation.  He could see that you were too valuable here to let go.”

“Y’know, I’d be flattered if I thought for a moment that it was true.”

“It is true.”

“Coffee and suits,” Ianto snarled.

“No.  You’re an excellent Archivist and Recorder, growing as a field agent, invaluable as general support, and as far as Torchwood protocol and procedure goes, is there anything I know that you don’t, anything I can do that you can’t?”

“You have a vast experience of…”

“I said Torchwood, not life experience.”

Ianto stopped to consider, still glowering.

“There is very little that you know that I don’t, but you could train somebody new.”

“Why the hell should I, when I already have the best?”

“Train somebody new,” Ianto pressed on, “and if you make a good job of it, set a better example, maybe the other members of the team won’t take so long to be persuaded that my replacement isn’t just a fucking tea boy.”

“Maybe…maybe it would be simpler to get rid of Owen, send him back home to London.”

“Jack.”

“No, no, listen.  Your biggest problem is him.  So let’s get rid of the problem.”

“This is ridiculous.  I’ll talk to London again and…”

“Ianto.  I haven’t stopped thinking about what you told me, and…  The only way to convince you that your fears are groundless is by keeping you here, physically proving the point, surely you can see that?”

“What I see?  Tell you what’s staring me in the face, shall I?  That the last thing I needed was for you to demonstrate that you can’t be trusted.  Well done, Jack.”

“Where you’re concerned I can be trusted, absolutely, and you know it.”

“You can’t be trusted to show me any respect,” Ianto told Jack bitterly, “and I won’t have that.  I make the decisions about my life, every last one, I’m not yours to manipulate and manoeuvre.  Put this right, or we’re finished.”

“Ah, c’mon, you have to be…”

“I’m not joking.  We’re finished, and I’ll make life so unbearable for you that you’ll be happy to boot me out, first chance you get.”

For all his apparent confidence, it was only now that Jack had the courage to study Ianto, and the animosity in the man’s eyes was startling.

“Is that look for real?” Jack asked.  At the end of his patience and radiating exasperation, Ianto turned to leave.  “Go ahead,” Jack told him, “and hate me all you like.  But I’m right, and it won’t be long before you realise that.”

“We’re over.”

“No, we’re not.”  Ianto swung back in an absolute fury, but Jack spoke before the expected tirade could begin.  “We need each other, Ianto.”  The arrogance that Ianto found so infuriating had slipped away; Jack was quiet and honest, the adoration in his eyes unmistakeable.  “I mean it: hate me today, tomorrow, however many tomorrows it takes for you to accept that I was right.  I can live with you hating me, just as long as you’re hating me here.”

Several tense minutes passed before Ianto took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.  He slumped into his usual chair at the table.

“I don’t hate you,” he admitted, flat and weary.  “I’m still trying to cope with being in love with you.  It has to be one or the other, it can’t be both: either is a full time job.”

Jack wandered around the room, running a hand over Ianto’s hair as he passed.

“I’ll tell Owen to leave.”

“You can’t.  He’s as…damaged as us, he can’t manage without the support.”

“He’ll find new support.”

“Neither of us are really prepared to do that to him, so stop playing games.”

Jack strolled another circuit before sitting beside Ianto.

“Full time job, huh?” he grinned.

“Don’t,” Ianto snapped.  “I may love you, but right now…  I don’t particularly like you.”

Ianto rose and left in a sudden burst of the angry energy he’d arrived with.

Jack understood and accepted Ianto’s anger, and he knew that winning Ianto’s trust yet again would need to be a priority in the coming days/weeks, along with disproving Ianto’s fears about the rest of the team being in danger in his prickly company.  But…Ianto was staying.  Ianto loved him and was staying.  At last it felt as if everything was falling into its correct place, although Jack tried not to be too smug, nor would he mention the change in plans to anyone until he’d talked to Ianto again and let him decide how he wanted to deal with the turnaround.  Probably a Hub-wise announcement of how big a bastard Jack was, but…  Whatever.  Ianto was staying.

…

Ianto managed to keep out of everyone’s way for the next few hours, not wanting to face questions about dropped trays, suspicious phone calls, or confrontations with Jack.  It was more satisfying to rearrange R to T for the nth time, even as he watched one of his folders floating by before automatically snatching it out of midair.  He apologised to the ghost for his rudeness, asked it very nicely if it would mind leaving the filing to him, and returned the folder to its home.

Now he was staying he felt out of sorts with his casual clothes and bristled chin, and it was tempting to nip home and make the necessary changes to his appearance.  It would have been more tempting still if Gwen hadn’t made that comment about having Jack weeping by midday.  It was almost irresistible that Ianto should find ways to torment Jack for the remainder of the day.  Weeping by midday?  He’d have the captain on his knees and begging by sundown.

Not that begging would get him anywhere.  Ianto’s priority that evening would be to unpack and restore his home to…well, his home.  Jack was welcome to be there and watch.  Just watch, mind, as Ianto gradually peeled off his clothes to keep cool as he expended vast amounts of energy on unpacking that Jack was bound to feel should be spent on him.

As cross as he was, it was a relief to have the final decision taken out of his hands, and he would eventually admit that to Jack.  Not thank him for his intervention – which would never be anything other than intrusive and inappropriate – just be honest about how much he hadn’t wanted to leave Cardiff.  Ianto’s stomach did a sudden flip when he realised that, if everything he’d been told was true, Jack would now move in with him.  The house was a perfect size for two, even if one of the two was as massive a personality as Jack Harkness.

Ianto’s ponderings were rudely interrupted by the Rift alarm sounding, and his feet seemed to react independently, racing up to the Hub to find out if the whole of him was needed.

“…large amounts of debris have crash-landed at Lamby,” Gwen was reporting as Ianto arrived, “that’s barely two miles from the incident we dealt with at Tremorfa.  Going by the first descriptions, I think we can assume the aliens are more Fraxtaley.”

“Lamby?  Isn’t that a landfill?” Owen asked with a grimace.

“Yes, and the debris is pretty well spread out.  We’re going to be stretched.”

“I’ll come along,” Ianto told them: Gwen and Owen gratefully agreed.

Jack emerged from his office with Tosh at his heels.

“You have all the relevant coordinates?” he asked as he pulled on his coat.

“Here,” Gwen gave him a printout.  “I think, between the five of us…”

“Four of us,” Jack automatically corrected.

Ianto turned to him, trying to be calm.

“It makes sense for me to…”

“Stay here and coordinate us.”

“We need him with us,” Owen snapped.  “Take another look at the area we’re dealing with.”

“The area we’re dealing with is exactly why we need to be coordinated from here.”

“Then let me stay.  Personally, I have absolutely no wish to get intimate with Cardiff’s shit, but if Ianto does…”

“It’s not up for debate.”  Jack looked to where Ianto was glaring at him with barely restrained hostility for the umpteenth time that day.  “Ianto, you’ll be staying here; the rest of you, I’ll see you in the SUV.”

Jack spun on his heel and returned to his office, making a show of looking something up on his computer.  As the Hub emptied, Ianto followed Jack and stopped in the doorway.

“You assured me that, if I didn’t move to London, I’d be given more opportunities to go into the field.”

“At my discretion.”  Seeing that they were alone, Jack abandoned his transparent stalling tactic and turned to Ianto.  “Ianto, you saw what those creatures did to me…”

“That was your own stupid fault, I would never take that kind of risk.”

“And I won’t take that kind of risk either.  There will be other opportunities for you…”

“I don’t believe you!  You’ve fucked over my future and you’re determined to keep me as your bloody tea boy.  I won’t have it!”

“Ianto…”

“You think you have me trapped here because you can bullshit some gullible idiot in London?  No.  I’m telling you: no.  If it means I walk away and wait to be RetConned, so be it.”

“I’m not trying to ruin your life,” Jack exploded, “I’m trying to keep you living it!  I worry because I love you.  You know that.  I love you, I am in love with you, and because I love you so much I am terrified of losing you.  Every second you’re out of my sight I’m thinking the worst.  I’ve lost everything and everybody I held dear, I’ve lost everything but you.”

“That isn’t my problem.  If you can’t keep our private and professional lives separate…”

“Why am I bothering!  Like you fucking deserve this!”

“Don’t mind me,” came from behind Ianto, “but…”

“Owen, get out of here,” Jack yelled.

“Right.  Just…the landfill’s apparently on fire now, we need to get a move on.”

“Get out.”  Owen threw a sympathetic glance in Ianto’s direction and left.  “You too,” Jack continued as he refocused his attention on Ianto.  “You don’t want to be here, fine.  Make sure you’re gone by the time we get back.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ianto responded with just the necessary amount of decorum to leave Jack speechless.  “It’ll be my pleasure.”

Jack bowled past Ianto, practically knocking him off his feet.  Ianto watched him go and, decorum be damned, seethed.

…

“How did I get it so wrong?” Owen asked himself aloud as he climbed into the SUV, securing the attention of his colleagues.

“What?” Gwen wanted to know.

“Just caught Jack declaring himself.  Ianto seemed less than impressed.”

“Oh, more of that,” Gwen sighed dismissively.

“Before Jack left, I thought it was all one-sided.  But I thought it was Ianto mooning over Jack, not the other way around.”

Gwen shrugged.

“Things were different then.”

“You’ve always underestimated Ianto,” Toshiko told Owen distractedly, eyes glued to the monitor of her laptop.

“Makes you think, though, doesn’t it?” Owen mused.

“About?”

“Well, all those stories Jack tells about his past exploits…”

“You mean,” Gwen grinned at seeing Owen’s discomfort, “that Jack isn’t going to settle for someone less than remarkable in the shagging stakes.”

“When things are normal, there’s nothing to Ianto.  You barely notice him, never hear from him…”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Toshiko interjected.  Quietly.

“I bet Ianto’s an absolute animal in the bedroom,” Gwen persisted in taunting Owen.  “And hung.”

“He’d have to be,” Toshiko agreed.  “Jack probably has this sixth sense about certain men.”  There was a long, bated moment: they all knew what was coming.  “He’s never looked twice at you, has he, Owen?”

Gwen laughed, and even Owen chuckled, all of them making the most of the light atmosphere before Jack joined them.

…

Via the CCTV, Ianto watched the SUV speed away.  He knew he should be going with his team and felt thoroughly cheated.  Still, he reasoned as he made his way to the Tourist Office, Jack’s command had been very clear: he’d been told to leave, and far be it from him to disobey a direct order.  He hesitated for a moment at the sight of his packing boxes, but fought the urge to return the items to the shop, or shred his copies of the files he’d appropriated.  Collecting his coat, he left the reception and securely locked up, checking and rechecking, before strolling to the car park.

Once in the Rover he debated where to go.  He didn’t fancy going back to the house just yet, he felt like he wanted to celebrate…what?  Staying at Torchwood Three?  Staying in Cardiff?  Keeping his home?  Jack?  Keeping Jack?  Because despite Jack’s questionable actions and angry words, Ianto wasn’t about to let him get away; in fact, all the fuss and noise simply, and somewhat confusingly, made him want the man even more.

An unrelated thought struck him.  In the glove compartment there was the last of the readouts concerning the anomaly at Port Talbot, stored away until he could persuade Jack to take a look with him, just to assuage his curiosity.  That’d do nicely.  He started the car, mentally planning his route, thinking scenic rather than direct; he’d enjoy the drive, and undoubtedly discover absolutely nothing, but it would be…liberating.

Then, later, he’d calmly return to work, serve Jack his least favourite coffee, and Jack might just apologise for attempting to take over his life.  Then they’d make up.  A wicked smile flickered over Ianto’s face.  If there was one thing that he and Jack did extraordinarily well, it was make up.

…

The team returned to the Hub just before six: cold, smoky, spattered with Fraxtaley guts and disappointed not to find Ianto waiting for them with hot drinks.  But there was no sign of Ianto, full stop, and the Hub was evidently devoid of human life.

“Good lad, he must be off getting us something to eat.”  Owen pressed his fingertips to his temples.  “Come on, Ianto, tune in, I know exactly what I want.”

Toshiko rolled her eyes.

“For the last time, level one training doesn’t mean he’s actively psychic.”

“He is.  He has loads of creepy abilities.  Like the way he can see round corners from twenty feet away.”  Owen concentrated again.  “Large Döner with extra chilli sauce.  Large Döner with…”

“It won’t work.”

“It has before.”

“No, you smelling the toasted cheese Ianto was cooking and saying you fancy toasted cheese doesn’t indicate a psychic link.”

“Ooh, that’d be nice.  Where is he, I’m bloody starving.”

Gwen turned to them with a frown, phone to her ear.

“His mobile’s going straight to voicemail.”

Owen glared at Jack.

“You had to wind him up today, didn’t you.  Last bloody day – couldn’t you have let him spend it with us?  It’s hardly surprising he’s pissed off home.  And we were supposed to be going out tonight for his farewell do.”

“I’m trying his home phone,” Gwen interjected.  “No answer.”

“If he turns up now, you’re uninvited,” Owen told Jack, not particularly noticing that Jack wasn’t paying the slightest attention.

Toshiko found her mobile and tried for herself.

“He wouldn’t just leave, would he?  I know he wasn’t looking forward to us making a fuss, but…  Voicemail, even if he knows it’s me rather than any of you.”  She ignored the insulted scowls.  “Were his things still in the reception?  His boxes?  They were, weren’t they?”  Before anyone could answer, Toshiko turned to the CCTV, checking the Tourist Office.  “Everything’s still there.  He wouldn’t have gone without those.”  She went on to check any other area Ianto might have been, flicking through view after unhelpful view.

“Perhaps he’s shot through and we’re supposed to send it all on.”  Owen got back to some intense glaring.  “If I had an admirer like Jack I think I’d make a run for it while the coast was clear.”

While his team continued to discuss Ianto’s absence, Jack’s ever-present concern deepened until it was a cold fear creeping through his body.  Despite telling Ianto to be gone by the time they returned, and however much he’d irritated Ianto before they left, it wasn’t enough to force his most dedicated employee to act completely out of character.  Ianto’s stubbornness alone should have ensured his presence for their return.  Character analysis or fifty-first century intuition, this felt very wrong.

“Jack?  Jack!” Gwen’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“What?”

“How did you leave things with Ianto?”

The truth was too damning: Jack wasn’t ready to admit to it quite yet.

“We were fighting.”

“Because…?” Gwen coaxed.

Nothing they didn’t already know.

“Because he resented me being over-protective.”

“Right.  If he was angry enough it’s not quite so improbable that he simply left early.”

“This is Ianto,” Owen reminded her.  “It was odd enough that he didn’t stick around to coordinate us.”

“I know, but…last day, nothing to lose…  Perhaps we should contact London, see if he’s been in touch and…”

“He’s not going to London,” Jack broke into Gwen’s sentence, knowing they’d think he was just talking about this particular day rather than the actual transfer, and happy for it to remain that way.  “Something’s not right.  Tosh, track his car.”

“Shouldn’t we wait and see…”

“Track his car,” Jack snapped, and Toshiko glanced at him in surprise before carrying out his order.

A few tense minutes passed before Toshiko relayed the results of her search in a stunned voice.

“I can’t find it.  It’s not in Cardiff, it’s not…”  Keys rattled under her fingertips as she checked her findings, extending the search parameters again and again.  “It’s not in Wales.  England.  The UK.”  Everyone had gathered around her work station, watching the monitors in bewilderment.  “No trace,” Toshiko concluded.  “Anywhere.”

“This is ridiculous,” Owen broke out of the freeze frame moment.  “Your doing,” he accused Jack.  “He’s dismantled the tracker to teach you a lesson.”

Toshiko took a deep relieved breath.

“Of course.”  She joined Owen in glaring at Jack, cross with herself for contracting his apparently unfounded fear.  Jack didn’t look appeased however, and edged Toshiko aside to input some new data.  “What’s this?” Toshiko asked.

“The identification sequence for another tracking device.”

“On his car?”

Jack didn’t answer and Gwen groaned.

“On Ianto?  You bugged Ianto?”

“I knew it!” Owen crowed, “I warned him you were that obsessed, should’ve put money on it.  Right then, let’s catch the crafty little sod out.  I want to be there to see his face when he realises he’s been sussed.”

Once again the computer ran its search programmes, and this time the results were met with rapidly growing unease from the entire team.

“Not in Cardiff,” Toshiko imparted flatly.  “Not in Wales.  The UK.”  A few more seconds for advanced global technology to frisk the planet and…  “According to this he isn’t anywhere, which is ridiculous.  Perhaps the bug isn’t working.”  A few more checks confirmed that, if the bug had been on or in the vicinity of Earth, it would have been detectable.  “This is impossible.”

“He’s figured it out,” Gwen insisted.  “Found the bug, destroyed it.  Where was it, Jack?  Watch?  Shoe?”

Jack hesitated.

“Under his scalp.”

“What!”

“It’s alien tech, microscopic.  I injected it one night while he was sleeping.”

“You sick bastard,” Owen threw at Jack, turning away in disgust and heading for the Tourist Office.  “He’s not a fucking dog, he’s not your pet.”

“I wanted to keep him safe.”

Owen swung back.

“Well it hasn’t worked, has it!” he shouted.  “How do you know that using that alien technology didn’t amount to some sort of invitation for fuck knows what to come along and take him away?”

“It’s safe,” Jack was adamant.  “That isn’t what’s happened here.”

“Then what has?” Owen demanded.  “What has?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.  We have to find out.”

Muttering expletives under his breath Owen left for the reception.  Toshiko turned back to her computer.

“I’ll go through the CCTV recordings and find out when he left, see if there are any clues as to where he’s going.  I know there’s no sign of an intrusion, but I need to know that he left of his own volition.”

“I’ll go to his house, make sure we’re not just dealing with some monumental technical cock-up,” Gwen volunteered.

“Where do I start?” Jack asked himself, mind now racing with possibilities as the debilitating sense of dread began to lift in favour of some good old fashioned anger.

“Look at the files from when you disappeared,” Toshiko suggested, and Jack heard the tinge of reproach she tried her best to suppress.  “Everything you need to know about searching for a missing person, no stone unturned, is in there.”

Jack threw her a frosty look; the one she gave in return was defiant.

“What?” Jack demanded.

“He should have been with us today.  We seriously needed him and—  He obviously needed us.”

Jack was about to make his usual protestation but even he could see the redundancy.  How had he ever hoped to protect Ianto without the ability to be in two places at once?

“I made a mistake,” he admitted sombrely.  “He should have been with us.”

“If Ianto’s last day proves to be Ianto’s last day…”  No reproach now.  Sadness.  Fear.  “I doubt I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”

Jack abruptly laughed, a miserable and hollow sound that rang of self-damnation.

“I think I already have that covered.”

…

Owen gazed around the Tourist Office, at its normality, at the little touches that made it Ianto’s domain.  He stared at the Christmas tree: he’d found a snappily dressed voodoo doll wearing a pinstripe suit in an online joke shop and bought it for the top of the tree, expecting it to disappear the moment Ianto spotted it, but it was still in place, only now it was holding hands with the original fairy.

Owen told himself that Jack’s bug was wrong, it had to be wrong.  He tried to think clearly and search for clues but the scenario was all too familiar and devastating.  Like the repetition of a bad dream, life had been turned on its head in a matter of minutes and something in him was veering dangerously close to snapping.

He took refuge in the ante-room, and suddenly his legs were shaking so hard that if he hadn’t fallen onto Ianto’s chair he’d have been on the floor.  Ianto’s chair.  Think, he had to think.  How did this go?  Hospitals.  He’d check hospitals.  Doctors and hospitals.  Mortuaries.  Fuck no, not a body, can’t take a body, not—  He knew that Ianto wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t leave them up in the air, not unless…  Jack fucking Harkness, that’s where everything started and ended and ended and…

Against his will, Owen’s body curled up on itself, and his face fell into his hands.

“Not again,” he whispered, voice cracking with the strain.  “Not again.”

…

A few hours later Toshiko had gathered all the immediately available CCTV footage and called the others to the boardroom to watch what she’d found.

“This…”  She set the recording in motion and provided a commentary.  “…is just before we left.  You and Ianto,” she said to Jack, “obviously in heated debate; you leave.  Ianto checks the CCTV and watches the SUV go, looks around, then goes up to the Tourist Office…”  The view changed to the reception.  “…where he pauses, studies the packing boxes, gets his coat, and then leaves.”

“All perfectly normal,” Gwen observed.  “No sign of influence or coercion, that has to be good.”

“Next we have footage from our exterior cameras and the city’s security and traffic network.  Firstly…we can see Ianto lock up the Tourist Office, check the door three times as usual.  We can trace him all the way to the Mermaid car park, and inside…  There, that’s him getting into his car.  This is the moment when he seems to make a decision about where to go next, which suggests this wasn’t something pre-planned.  The picture isn’t clear – I can’t improve the quality any further – but he seems to look at something from the glove compartment.”

“A map?” Gwen asked as they all squinted at the blurry images.

“Anyone’s guess,” Toshiko exchanged a grim look with her colleague.  “Now the mystery really begins.  We have a few glimpses of the Rover driving through the city, but it’s not headed for Roath: Ianto isn’t going home.  The last recorded footage that I can find, so far, is…this.  Outskirts of Cardiff, traffic camera just beyond the M4 on the A470, he’s travelling north.  It almost looks as if he’s going back to the Beacons.”

“Why would he want to do that?” Jack thought aloud.

“It was nice, the last time we were there,” Gwen answered as she recalled their trip to Mynarth Wells.  “But he didn’t say anything about wanting to go back, at least not alone, and certainly not in the middle of a cold snap.”

“I’ve checked the Hub’s readings prior to Ianto leaving,” Toshiko rounded up her report, “and there’s nothing to suggest he was being affected by anything atmospheric, electrical, alien…”  With a sigh and a nod, Toshiko passed the figurative baton to Gwen.

“Okay, his mobile hasn’t been used today, and the phone company tells me that it’s untraceable.  Our equipment is obviously far more sophisticated than theirs and but we’re not able to trace it either.  It isn’t just switched off, it appears completely dead.  It’s up to us to decide whether it’s foul play, bad technology, or clever Ianto, because he is capable of dismantling it or altering it to the extent that it isn’t recognised as a phone by our searches.  No police reports of anything that could involve Ianto, and no anonymous males entering the system in the last twelve hours.”

Gwen looked to Jack, who slid a heap of computer readouts to the centre of the table.  Toshiko and Gwen took copies and glanced over them as Jack précised his findings.

“I’ve been through all of our own and UNIT’s readings for alien and paranormal activity over, under, or in the UK, plus any as yet unclassified alerts.  There’s nothing that suggests any kind of involvement in Ianto’s disappearance.  After the Fraxtaley came though, the Rift remained stable, there were just a few spasmodic bouts of spatial white noise.  The logs for the tracking devices indicate that they were both fully functional, working at optimum efficiency.  The last self-diagnostic report from the personal tracker was sent to my computer at midday, which is perfectly usual.  There’s nothing to suggest that either device was physically disabled.”

They turned to Owen, who seemed to be paying scant attention to any of this.

“Owen?” Toshiko prompted.

“No accidents, no unidentified corpses, no…nothing,” Owen snapped.  “Hospitals and surgeries have his details and know to advise us, blah, blah, blah.”

“That really isn’t helping,” Jack told him, resenting Owen’s attitude and fighting to keep his temper.

“No.  It isn’t, is it.”

Owen stood so fast his chair tumbled over backwards; he hared off, not only leaving the boardroom but also the Hub.  The remaining three ignored his show of frustration and stared at the screen with its last glimpse of Ianto’s Rover.  Toshiko fidgeted and then sprang to her feet.

“I’ll—  There’s obviously more.  I just need to find it.”  She paused by Jack on her way to the door, self-consciously dropping a hand onto his shoulder and squeezing.  “Sorry.  For saying…  You know.”

“It’s okay.”

She squeezed again and made a silent exit.

Left alone, Gwen turned to Jack and drew on her past experience.

“Do you want to go through what the police will ask if he officially becomes a missing person?”  Jack stared blankly at her.  “Jack, we have to consider…”

“Any minute now I’m gonna wake up.”

“Isn’t that rather a tall order for someone who doesn’t sleep?”

“I do.  Nowadays I do.  Especially if I’m with—”  Jack caught his breath.  The fury that had energised him all evening had drained away, leaving an emptiness in its wake, emotional exhaustion undermining his physical strength.  But he already knew that peaceful sleep had become a thing of the past.  “How the hell did this happen, Gwen?”

“How can someone apparently disappear from the face of the Earth?  You should know.”

“But Ianto isn’t me.  He isn’t reckless, he wouldn’t put himself in a position where this could happen.”

“We don’t know yet what has happened.”

“He’s gone,” Jack stressed, furiously blinking back his emotions.  “How can he be gone?  I have to—”  Jack started to rise but couldn’t find the impetus to carry through the action.  He sank back into his chair.  “I feel so useless.  And…numb.  I like angry better than numb.”

Gwen steeled herself.

“How were the two of you?  Don’t glare at me, this is the police officer speaking.”

Jack put the glare away.  As he thought about Ianto he couldn’t help but smile.

“We’re good.”

“I’m sorry I have to ask, but the similarity between your own disappearance and his is such that…”

“It’s not payback.  Take me out of the equation, he wouldn’t do that to any of you.”

“Did you ever talk about it?”

“I accused him of it when he made his decision to move to London.  From his response I’m convinced it never entered his mind.”

“Were you being difficult about the move?  Could this be his way of avoiding any further confrontations over it?”

Jack groaned and just stopped short of banging his head on the table.

“He isn’t going to London.”

“You mean he decided…”

“I decided for him.”

“You…”

“I contacted London and convinced them to cancel his transfer.”

“When was this?” Gwen asked, aghast at Jack’s arrogance.

“Today.”

“Fucking hell, Jack, he has every reason to go missing: he wants to teach you a lesson, and I don’t blame him!”

“No.  We were okay.  He was angry – okay, justifiably – at the way I handled it, but he accepted what I’d done.”

“You were fighting before we left.”

“For exactly the reason I told you.  Look…  Ianto didn’t want to go to London.  It was a bad decision and he needed a way out.  I gave him that.  I know he can be stubborn, but he’s the most practical man I’ve ever known, he’s going to take what he’s handed and make the most of it.”

“I really want to hear his version of this.  Um, that’d be for gossip,” Gwen clarified, “not the police enquiry.”

“Want some more gossip?  We’re celebrating New Year in Vienna, his decision, he made the bookings.  We’ve been looking forward to that so much, we’ve been happy, we—  Take my word for it: this…absence is not normal.  I can find ways to dismiss everything but that personal tracker.  I know the technology, and its history, and I know its reliability rating is an astonishing ninety-nine point nine-whatever percent.  In fact it’s—”  Jack stopped short before any further information about the brilliantly efficient yet highly illegal forty-third-century technology escaped his lips; he could, however, stress the implications in a bid to convince Gwen of the dire seriousness of the situation.  “The tracker is pretty accurately sold as indestructible.  The tracker is under Ianto’s scalp.  The tracker has disappeared without trace, therefore the logical conclusion is that Ianto has also disappeared.  He’s missing, not dead: if he were on this planet and dead the tracker would carry on functioning and report that fact.  This absence is not normal.  Ianto’s gone.  No Earth-bound police force is going to find him.”

“Your doctor wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would he?”

“No.”

“D’you think he’d help us?”

“I doubt I could contact him.  Besides, despite appearances, he’s no magician.  One missing man in a Universe that you can’t begin to comprehend the size of.  Even he’d need a clue.”

Gwen nodded slowly.

“A Universe with lots of people you’ve pissed off over the years.”

“If this was about me we would have heard something by now.  What’s the point of taking a hostage if you have no demands?”

“I’m not dismissing that entirely, but…  Yes, of course, we’d need to hear from someone.  It may happen.”  Jack said nothing, just stared at the screen.  Gwen stood.  “We need to search this place, top to bottom.  Should have done that to start with, I suppose.”

“He isn’t here.”

“I expect you’re right, but I have to do something.  Ianto may have come back here…”

“The CCTV…”

“Is our own technology, it doesn’t have an astonishing ninety-nine-point-nine percent reliability rating.  And, regardless of the sales pitch, if that bug of yours misfired, Ianto might be lying unconscious somewhere; if he is, I’ll find him.  When I’ve finished searching I’ll contact the police – however useless a move you think that is – and treat this like a typical missing person, give them…”

“You can’t do that.”

“We have to try everything!” Gwen shouted.  “What if he’s had an accident, bumped his head in the car and that was enough to stop your bloody device working?  You can’t write him off because of one piece of technology!”

“I haven’t—”

“Jack, we have to do something.  At least, you have to help me do something.  If you’re too…wounded to do much for yourself, please support me.”

Jack stared at Gwen’s frightened face, and he imagined that look on each of his team ten months ago.  He didn’t have to do much imagining as Owen suddenly rushed in, and there was that expression again.

“What do you want me to do?” Owen demanded, sounding as distressed as he looked.

“Thank you for coming back,” Gwen told him quietly.

“Ianto wouldn’t ditch any of us, would he, he wouldn’t walk away if we needed him.  He didn’t.”  Owen took a sharp, deep breath.  “Where are we starting?”

“We’re searching the Hub.”

“Good.  I’ll take a medical kit, just in case…”  He flicked a glance at Jack.  “Y’know.”

As Gwen filled Owen in on everything he’d only half listened to or missed completely, Jack drifted away into his own thoughts.  It had been like this all evening: there would be debate all around him but he was only present in body, his mind was completely elsewhere.  He began to wonder if Ianto hadn’t been the only one affected by that first kiss, or if, by some strange fluke or decree of fate, a link had been formed and, even though Ianto was physically absent, mentally they were still connected.  Highly unlikely was putting it mildly, laughable would have been closer to the truth, but Jack was beginning to cling to the idea, pretending that he’d know if Ianto were dead, and right now, even though he felt lost and bereft, he didn’t believe that.  Frankly, he didn’t know what to believe, but an overlong lifetime filled with curious occurrences allowed him to accept that, when someone mysteriously disappeared, there was always the chance they’d reappear just as mysteriously, and usually with a far worse excuse than the one you’d concocted for them.

Meantime…  Perhaps he should find the energy to leap to his feet and be the dynamic and inspiring leader his team seemed to presently need, despite the distinct – experienced – feeling that searching for Ianto would be about as much use as his team’s search for their leader had been, and why didn’t they see that?  It was somehow preferable to keep thinking he’d soon wake up and reach out and Ianto would be beside him in bed, and there would be no questions of how?, no reason to feel both numb and in pain – and how the hell did that work anyway? – and…  There might be elements of denial here, Jack conceded to himself.

Ianto was missing and he had to face it: he was helpless, inwardly wobbling between irate, disbelieving, murderous and hopeless, and all his people needed was someone to tell them they were doing everything they could and lie convincingly about a successful resolution.  Jack thought, numbly and painfully, about how good a liar he was.  Can’t con a conman, eh?  Well, someone or something had managed to rip him off, quite remarkably.

Ianto was missing and Jack desperately wanted him back, so until he did finally wake up and this nightmare was over…

Suddenly animated, Jack sprang out of his chair and wrenched open the boardroom door.

“We’ll print out sets of plans so we can take areas, mark them off as we go,” he announced, his voice bearing no clue that he was humouring irresolvable needs.  “Start with sections he might have some reason to visit.”

“I’ll get Tosh and…”

“No, Gwen, leave her doing what she’s doing.  We’ll need the last reliable sighting of Ianto’s car as soon as possible.”

As Gwen shot off to organise the plans, Jack took a good look at Owen.  Who turned away, obviously not wanting anyone taking any kind of look.  Owen’s appearance suggested he felt as bad as Jack, and…why?  Jack put the question to Owen, who threw him a defensive glance.

“It’s nothing personal.”

“Well, it should be.”

“It isn’t, it’s…”

They paused on the walkway, both holding onto the handrail, both sets of knuckles white with tension.

“About normality?” Jack provided.

“Is there any such thing?” Owen asked, almost too quietly to hear.

They both knew the answer.

They were Torchwood.

Attrition 27       Attrition Index       Attrition Notes

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