Director's Cut Epilogue

 

Replaces Thursday 10th September 2009 & original Epilogue.  Please read the Notes

 

Jack said no to Vienna.  Too many bad memories, understandably.  Jack said no and vainly hoped for his wishes to be respected, and that there would be no further discussion on the subject.

Ianto said yes to Vienna, because, a) the itinerary was already planned and there were places he’d researched that he was very excited about sharing with Jack (although he categorically refused to acknowledge this was little other than sheer romanticism), and b) he wasn’t prepared to see his captain defeated by anyone, anything, or anywhere.

It should have been stalemate, but it goes without saying that they were in Vienna less than a week after Ianto had made up his mind about the trip, very deliberately booked into the hotel room that Jack had spent the New Year alone in.

“Ianto…  Have you any idea of how miserable I was here?”

Ianto paused for thought and, when he finally spoke, it was sympathetically.

“As miserable as I was when I had to go back to the Hub, every single day, when you were missing?”

“Of course,” Jack agreed softly, pain in his eyes, in his voice, and Ianto flew across the room to him, crushing him in the strongest hug he could muster.  “Please,” Jack beseeched him, “please, make this better.”

At first it seemed an impossible task, making this better, and faced with Jack’s tangible unhappiness, Ianto had more than a moment’s doubt about his decision to come to Vienna.  But Ianto was nothing if not determined to put the past right, and Jack proved to be aggressively willing to accept anything that Ianto suggested or demanded of him.

Ianto exploited all he knew about his partner and took him to bed, talked him through the way New Year should have played out before enacting the fantasy, minute by erotic minute.  Gradually, over hours, Jack’s negativity was overwhelmed by a multitude of hot, horny and loving experiences that would be the basis for heart-warming, rather than heartrending, memories.

“Relax,” Ianto cajoled.  “Sleep.”

“I am relaxed.”

“No, you’re not, I can feel how tense you are.”

“I’m fine.”

“Jack…  I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I know.”

“Then…”

“Fuck me?”

“Again?” Ianto smiled.  “I don’t think I packed enough slick for this weekend, and I bought the economy size.”

“Fuck me,” Jack insisted, his expression desirous and resolute and…undeniable.

“This isn’t about fucking you,” Ianto observed as he allowed himself to be manhandled over Jack’s body, “this is about…loving you.  Loving you and never leaving you.”

Fuck me.”

“There are some things I have no choice over, but I’ll never leave you while I have a choice.”  Ianto kissed Jack tenderly, letting himself be teased hard, letting himself be manoeuvred inside Jack for an uncountable time.  “I’m very young,” Ianto reminded Jack as he began to move, slowly, smoothly, “I’ll be around for a long time yet.”

Yes.”

“One day, I imagine, you’ll be glad to see the back of me.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”  Ianto fell still and waited for Jack to meet his eyes.  “I love you, too.  I will love you for the rest of my life, and I’ll never willingly leave you.  Even if you beg,” Ianto concluded.  Especially if you beg.  You know how contrary I can be.”

Jack’s serious expression finally cracked and, to Ianto’s great delight, he laughed.

“I’ll make you marry me,” Jack taunted.

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re already wearing my ring.”

“In more ways than one,” Ianto chuckled as he rolled his hips and made Jack gasp with pleasure, goosebumps rising on the skin beneath Ianto’s hands.

A beautiful late summer’s morning, and Ianto relaxed on their balcony, absorbing the sunshine as he checked the touristy notes he’d made on his PDA prior to their original booking.  He’d left Jack dozing after breakfast, content to see his partner nod off mid-sentence as they discussed the day ahead; despite the copious planning, Ianto was quite prepared to put his schedule on hold if Jack wanted to spend the morning doing nothing more than catching up on some hard-found sleep.

Ianto set the PDA aside and lounged, knowing they’d been lucky to find the time to escape Cardiff and wishing that this brief holiday could be extended.  As he considered the possibility, trying to think of ways they could avoid returning to Torchwood before mid-week, he heard movement in the room behind him and, after taking a last, long inhalation of the pleasantly warm air, went inside.

“Do we have plans?” Jack asked as he sat himself up and reached for the water on his bedside cabinet.

“We do.  Or we might.  Depending on what you fancy.”  The look Jack sent Ianto was full of humour.  “Yes, all right, depending on what you fancy other than sex,” Ianto corrected.

“It’s not the sex I fancy, it’s you.”

“And that makes some kind of difference?”

Jack grinned.

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  Depends how much schmoozing it takes to get you back into bed.”

“I’m unschmoozeable.”

“You think?”

“That wasn’t a challenge.”

“Shame.  I enjoy a challenge.”  Jack was watching Ianto’s hands like a hawk.  “We could go for it, y’know,” Jack said, too pointedly casual for comfort.

“Go for what?”

“I could make an honest man of you.”

Ianto followed Jack’s gaze and understood that he’d been unconsciously twisting the ring on his third finger, left hand.

A few days after his adventure with the Port Talbot temporal anomaly, Ianto had found the rings Jack bought on his last trip to Vienna.  After much joking and many protestations, Ianto had chosen to humour his partner, agreeing that they could wear the rings during this break, and then, that would be that, they would be consigned to a drawer and forgotten.  Jack was rather disgruntled at being told rather than asked, but Ianto belligerently refused to understand why the issue was so important, and had avoided being drawn into a serious discussion about the matter umpteen times since.

“An honest man of me,” Ianto repeated with an edgy laugh as he returned to the bed, dropping onto it alongside Jack and picking over the remains of the fruit salad on their breakfast tray.

“I have the tiniest suspicion that, with a little persuasion, I could eventually change your mind about what you want.”

“So you know then?  That it isn’t what I want.”

“I know.  What I don’t really understand is why.”

“It isn’t as if I have some great example of wedded bliss I want to emulate.”

“We wouldn’t need to emulate: we’d be unique and wonderful.”

“We already are unique and wonderful.”

“I want to marry you.  And…you asked.”

“I was joking.”

“I don’t want you to have been joking.  I’ve never been married before, I want to try it.”

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“You want to try it.  Marriage isn’t like a new pizza topping, y’know, you can’t flick it into the bin when you find it disagrees with you.”

“You disagree with me all the time: I haven’t consigned you to the trash yet.”

“Besides, marriage isn’t necessary unless there are children, and even that concept is outmoded these days.”

“Children, huh?” Jack mused.

“And it isn’t as if that’s going to happen.”

Jack smiled a little too sweetly and Ianto was immediately suspicious, but Jack very deliberately moved on.

“You think Gwen was right then?  To get married?”

“I hardly know Rhys but I’m hoping she was right.  She seems happy enough.”

“The way you fuss over her, she’ll barely need Rhys.  Has she asked you to be at the birth yet?”

“Don’t be daft.”

“You ever want kids?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Ianto dismissed the question with a blasé gesture, and a repeated,

“Don’t be daft.”

Ianto polished off three grapes and a sliver of melon before Jack nonchalantly dropped a bombshell into the conversation.

“I was pregnant once.”

“Wha—”

Jack pounded Ianto’s back until the fruit he’d just inhaled re-emerged.

“Okay?”

Ianto nodded, staring at Jack with eyes that had become huge.

“You…” Ianto choked.

“Seriously.  In my timeline there’s a kind of genetic blip when all sorts of normality gets scrambled.  I came along about two centuries after the first instance of a male giving birth was recorded.”

“You…you…”

“It’s not common, I admit, but…  That’s me, I guess.  Uncommon.”

“You…  Holy shit.”

“Maybe trying again wouldn’t be as bad as I thought, though Gwen might get mad when I look so much more adorable than she does, and then there’s always…  Are you going to faint?”

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Jack stared at Ianto for a full minute, expressionless.  Then gave him a lifeless smile.

“I’m joking.”

“No, you’re not.  Oh, my God, you’re not.  You were…  You had…”  Ianto’s face abruptly reflected an inner discomfort, as if he knew the answer to his next question before he asked it.  “Where is…  He?  She?”

Jack swallowed audibly; his smile became, if possible, duller.

“It was a girl.  But she, uh…  She didn’t make it.  There are always complications, so many that pregnant men are made to take special classes about not getting attached to the foetus.  It was…hard, the whole thing was hard, but if it’s something you want…”

“No, Jack.”  Ianto pushed the tray aside and straddled Jack’s lap to hug him.  “It’s you I want, nothing more, certainly nothing that would cause you a moment’s distress or unhappiness.  You’re amazing, and I love you.  You’re more than enough for me.”

“But you won’t marry me unless…”

“I want to break from my past, I don’t want anything I’d planned with—  In that other life.  Anyway, we should choose what we want, not just conform to what’s available.”

“Does that mean…”  Jack edged Ianto away so he could see his face.  “Will you allow me something that’s other-worldly and unrecognisable to you?”

“Not if it’s anything like that orange stuff that came through the Rift, the delicacy you insisted I had to try.”

“It is a delicacy,” Jack laughed.

“I had dog’s breath for a week.”

“Okay, nothing orange and edible, I swear.  More like…  A ceremony.  A joining.”

“Why does it matter so much?”

“Because…because…”  Jack sighed, pulling Ianto back into a hug.  “I haven’t belonged for…ever.  I haven’t belonged in forever.  No-one ever wants me enough.”

“I could cry from hearing that, if I didn’t have the distinct feeling you’re saying whatever it takes to get me to agree.”

“Ah, shit, can’t you just pretend to be fooled?”  Jack tipped Ianto off his lap, making quick work of kicking the covers out of the way and pinning his lover to the bed.  “Pretend to be fooled,” he ordered.

“I am entirely fooled,” Ianto offered obligingly, and Jack rewarded him with kisses.

“Marry me and I’ll never leave you.”  All at once they were serious, very serious, Jack knowing he’d touched on Ianto’s greatest fear, one he now appreciated too well.  “I’m not trying to be cruel,” he swore.

Ianto didn’t look impressed, regardless of that assurance.

“Will you go then, if I refuse to participate in some meaningless rite?  I say no and you’ll leave, despite all your promises?”

There was a long, brittle pause.  Jack waited to see if Ianto would crack, but despite the body beneath his almost vibrating with tension, Ianto was determined not to be manipulated.

“I’ll never leave you,” Jack finally admitted on a defeated sigh.

“Bastard,” Ianto told him, and kissed him hard enough to bruise.

“Why me, Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“Wake up for five minutes.”

“I’m awake,” Jack insisted, mid-yawn.

“First I can’t get you to sleep, now I can’t get you to wake up.”

“I’m awake, and…  Why you what?”

“Just…why me?”

Jack draped himself over Ianto and considered the question, wondering if Ianto would believe that the sensation of his fingers trailing sensually over the back of Jack’s neck might just be answer enough.

“Why you.”

“Why me?”

Jack snuggled closer; it was a stupid question.

“You have to ask?”

“Evidently.”

“And I thought you were smart,” Jack joked.

“I am.  I’m smart enough to ask the question.  Why me?”

“Why not you?”

Ianto sighed.

“Where to start…”

“You have no reason to feel insecure.”

“I’m not insecure, I’m curious.  Or, perhaps, plain nosy.”

Jack did some thinking.  Why Ianto?

“You don’t want easy answers?  Like the fact you’re gorgeous and intelligent and considerate and intriguing…”

“No.”

“So…  Why Ianto?” Jack asked himself, seriously now, and thought some more.  “Because…sometimes you’re my only joy,” Jack smiled, repeating a sentiment that had obviously meant something significant to Ianto when it had first been aired.

“That makes me happier than you can believe,” Ianto reciprocated the smile, “and somewhat sadder than you’d imagine.  But it’s not an answer.”

“Okay…”  Jack went back to thinking.  “Maybe a fraction of why you is in the fact that you had the balls to take what you wanted.”

“You mean…?”

“How many people have you seen make a serious pass at me?”

“People are always interested, they’re…  Oh.”

“You get it?”

“Yes.  Yes, I think I do.”

“I lost interest in doing all the chasing a while back, tired of making all the moves.  You asked me about my reputation, why I dismissed the stories as old.  There’s your answer.  I was depressed, stuck in my own confused and miserable little hell, and I lost interest.”

“But you did more than chase when you got back.  You hounded me.”

“I was changed.”

“That concept is turning into an all-purpose cleaner.  Everything you want to dismiss, you spray on a little changed and wipe the issue away.”

“Yeah, so,” Jack quickly returned to the subject in hand, “however much I like being the centre of attention, however huge an ego-boost it is to have people in awe of this persona, it’s pretty rare for someone to make a significant approach.  You had the strength and determination to do that.  I wasn’t someone you admired, I was someone you wanted.  You wanted me and you took me.”

“That makes it sound…”

Hot.  It sounds hot, Ianto.  It was, you are, we are.  Hot.”

“We are,” Ianto accepted.

“Now, on top of that, think fifty-first century for a moment.”

Ianto pieced together the scraps he’d learnt and gave a considered nod.

“But…does that mean if anyone had made that approach…”

“Now I have to refer you back to the gorgeous, intriguing, etcetera, etcetera.  I’m only easy on my own terms: I do have some standards.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Then there’s the way you say no, the way you fight your corner, I really admire that.  You can be as crafty and calculating as you are open and giving, and knowing that you can fool me utterly but choose not to is a huge turn on.  Plus you don’t always like me despite loving me.  And in your own way you can be as cruel as me: that’s reassuring.”

“How can that possibly reassure you?”

“It reassures me because it’s honest, you’re honest.  It means that, when you’re being kind, when kindness matters, I know it’s completely sincere.  It allows me to trust you.  That’s pretty hot too.”

“So, on consideration…  ‘Why me?’ isn’t about me very much at all.  ‘Why me?’ is really all about you.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack agreed, indulging a growing need to lick Ianto from throat to balls.  “It’s all about me.”

“What’s blue and black and sounds like a slipping fan belt when it snores?” Ianto asked.

“I d’know.  What is blue and black and sounds like a slipping fan belt when it snores?”

“Well, whatever it is, Tosh and Owen pulled it out of the bay twenty minutes ago.”  Ianto scrolled down the text he’d just received.  “It’s as tall as Tosh’s shoulder, alive but apparently dormant…”

Alive?

“And Owen says…” Ianto grimaced, “it’s leaking.”

Leaking?

“Leaking.”

“Leaking what?”

“Just…leaking.”

“If this is his idea of a bad joke to ruin our weekend…”  Jack found and switched on his phone, and hooked on his earpiece.  “Owen,” he snapped, and was immediately connected to the doctor.

Ianto watched for a short while as Jack paced and debated, then he accepted the inevitable and went into the quiet of the corridor outside their room to telephone and book plane tickets home.  That taken care of, he returned and packed their belongings; the task was completed briskly and methodically, and Ianto was standing alongside their cases, ready to leave, when Jack finally hung up.

“I’m sorry, I think we have to—”  Jack stared at where Ianto patiently waited; he let out a groan.  “I really am sorry.”

“Problems, I take it?”

“There’s not only this thing that’s leaking, but…  Owen.  I can’t decide whether he’s progressing, regressing, or…or…”

“Taking the piss?” Ianto suggested.  “In what regard?”

“He brought in a Weevil on Friday night.”

“So?”

“He’s called it Diane.”  Ianto began to laugh and Jack tried hard not to join in.  He strolled over and prodded a case with his toe, smile rapidly fading.  “This is all we have, Ianto.  Sneaking off for five minutes before getting called back because semi-drowned aliens snore and leak.”  Ianto shrugged, face unreadable.  “Shall we run away together?” Jack proposed, not being entirely facetious.  “Steal a spaceship and see the Universe?”

“All we have,” Ianto began thoughtfully as he took a step toward Jack, “is…as much as we make it.”

“Trust you to turn profound when I least need it.”

Ianto smiled and cupped Jack’s face in his hands, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

“This is what you came back for.”

“You.  I came back for you.”

“And this.”

“Ianto…”

“Do I appear dissatisfied with my lot?”

“No.  You seem…happy.”

“And what can you extrapolate from that?”

“The obvious?”  Jack sighed.  “But…”

“Are you happy?”

“I am, yes.”

“Then stop picking everything to pieces.  This is us, Jack, Torchwood is us.  It’s more than what we do, it’s what we are.”

“You think?”

“We know.  Short-sighted, maybe, but…  It’s in our blood, Yvonne Hartman used to say.  Torchwood is in our blood.”

“Yvonne Hartman was ever so slightly crazy.”

“Your point?”

Jack chuckled and kissed Ianto.

“My point…”

More kisses, and Jack forgot his point, briefly but entirely.

“Five minutes was nice,” Ianto conceded.  “We should take five minutes more often.”

“Is it enough?”

“Perhaps next time…it’ll be ten minutes.”

“What if the world can’t survive without us for a whole ten minutes?”

“Then…  Five minutes will have to be enough.”  Smoothing the worry lines from Jack’s face with delicate fingertips, Ianto reminisced.  “You once asked me what I wanted more than anything else.”

“I did?” Jack frowned.  “That was either very brave or very stupid of me.  Or…”

“Very drunk would be closer to the truth.”

“Yup, that’s where I was headed.  So…  I asked, and you answered…?”

“Wales winning the Six Nations.”

“Figures.”

“Swiftly followed by…happy ever after.”

Jack’s entire demeanour softened.

“Can I be your happy ever after?” he asked, unknowingly repeating his words of the previous year.

“Depends.  When we get back to Cardiff, will you make the coffee while I run this case?”

Jack hmmed and deliberated.

“Will you protect me from the recipients of the coffee?”

“Naturally.”

“Okay.  It’s your case.”

Ianto stared at Jack in shock, never for a moment having imagined that his teasing would get him anywhere.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.  We made a deal.  You get to gain experience, I get to…hyperventilate.”

“You’ll be there, you won’t let anything terrible happen to me.  Anything other than the unavoidable and constant tirade from Owen.”

“Owen…needs to spend more time in the archives.  You ever get R to T in shape?”

“Jack Harkness, you are a god amongst men.”

With a short bark of laughter, Jack kissed Ianto’s smirking mouth and then hugged him tightly, savouring the last moments of their truncated holiday and, in his mind, already juggling potential destinations for their next five minute escape.

With a resigned sigh they grudgingly released one another and took up their suitcases, ready, if not willing, to return to business as usual.  Ianto had his hand on the doorknob when he paused and turned back, a frown creasing his brow.

“Should we be using protection?  I mean, if you can get pregnant, and…I can’t believe I just said that to a man.  I’m going mad.  Tell me I’m going mad.”

“You’re going mad.”

“I dreamt it, didn’t I.”

“You dreamt it.”

“Should we though?”

Jack dithered.

“Well…”

Don’t tell me it’s too late to worry about it.”

“Okay,” Jack smiled cheerfully, “I won’t.”

Ianto’s eyes narrowed.

“You…arse.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Bollocks, will I.”

Giggling, Jack herded Ianto into the corridor and they walked toward the lift, feet dragging.  Call button pressed, they exchanged wistful looks as they waited.

“Disappointed?” Jack asked.  “You didn’t get to see much beyond the walls of our suite.”

“The wallpaper was very fetching,” Ianto deadpanned.

“Though not palatial.”

Ianto took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, exhaled and relaxed.

“It’s good to be going home.  Not Cardiff, not Torchwood, but home.”

“Home, yes,” Jack agreed.

Wistfulness morphed into tender and knowing, mutual smiles; the lift doors opened and they stepped inside.

 

 

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