Archive of Our Own

As your shadow crosses mine
What it takes to come alive

It’s the way I’m feeling I just can’t deny
But I’ve gotta let it go
boyce avenue - we found love

The Hub was packed. Dancers could barely move out on the dance floor, their bodies pressed even closer against their partners than usual. The heavy layer of smoke hung visibly in the air, a thick, blue-grey haze above everyone’s heads. The band’s brass could barely be heard above the chatter.

Ianto felt guilty for leaving Owen alone at the bar with no one to help mix, but when he peeked around the curtain, he saw Gwen behind the dark counter, holding a bottle in one hand and pointing with the other. As he watched her hard expression, he could almost hear her yelling at some poor patron. He chuckled.

“You’re sure about this?” Tosh asked for the millionth time as she came up behind him. He rolled his eyes, turning around to place a light kiss on her forehead.

“Of course. It’s been long enough. Too long, really.” He took a step back, held his arms out wide, and did a turn. “How do I look?”

“You’re the bee’s knees, as usual.” The song ended and she pushed him towards the stage. “That’s your cue!”

Ianto stood in the shadows, taking a few deep breaths. He didn’t know why he was nervous; he played on stage with Tosh almost every night. But this wasn’t him fading into the background at a piano – this was his big return to the solo stage. He hadn’t sung since the night he’d been attacked, nearly six months ago. But now that he was seconds away from it, he was both exhilarated and terrified.

The lights dimmed and he stepped onto the stage, his head down and staring at his feet as he slowly crossed to the microphone. A piano started as the spotlight clicked on, and he swayed as he waited for his cue, his heart hammering in his chest. Then he opened his mouth and sang.

As the music coursed through his veins, he couldn’t believe he had stayed away so long. Two nights of this had not been enough; he knew why Tosh did this night after night. It was addictive. The trepidation he felt because of Adam seemed stupid now that his voice carried across the room.

His eyes scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long for him to find exactly what he was looking for – Jack, dressed in his usual casual attire, navy shirt, dark trousers, and braces. As far as fashion, Jack was years and styles behind the flashy suits, hats, and wingtips around him. He looked like a relic from a different age. But even in his antiquated clothes, Jack was the center of attention. Everyone – women and men – stole glances as he walked by, surreptitiously watched him as he danced. Even from on the stage, with the spotlight in his eyes, Ianto could see his smile, hear his laugh.

When Jack spun the brunette in his arms, he pulled her close to his body, and she ran her fingers through his hair. Ianto fought the urge to leap off the stage and rip her hair out. Sometimes, it was hard not to feel jealous. Then Jack looked over the crowd and caught Ianto’s gaze, and he smiled, smaller and more genuine. Then he winked and spun around. Ianto smiled.

His three songs flew by quickly, and he felt exhilarated and disappointed. If he wasn’t so attached to the Hub, he might try to find himself a more permanent singing arrangement. But as his fingers glided across the keys while Tosh sang, and as he slid shots across the mahogany counter, Ianto knew his place was behind the bar.

After everyone left, Ianto was in the small kitchen washing dishes when he heard music from the main room. He ignored it; he just wanted to finish and go to bed. A few minutes later, Jack poked his head through the swinging doors.

“I thought the music would be your cue to come dance with me.”

“I have to finish this,” Ianto explained, nodding towards the suds with his head.

“You work too hard.”

“Who else is going to do the dirty work? Surely not Owen,” Ianto said, carefully setting a soapy teacup into the empty side of the sink.

“We should hire a busboy.” Jack stepped into the small room. He stood beside Ianto, removed his cufflinks, shoved them in his pocket, and rolled up his sleeves, and then started rinsing the clean dishes.

“What are you doing?” Ianto put another stack of dirty cups into the warm water.

“Rinsing dishes. Your skills of observation are in serious need of repair.”

“I meant what are you doing rinsing dishes?”

“Helping you.”

“Why? You own the place.”

“The faster these dishes get cleaned, the faster you get into my bed.” Jack grinned and Ianto rolled his eyes.

“Why did I not assume it had to do with sex? It is a day that ends in Y.” Jack reached over and splashed water onto Ianto. “Real mature, sir.” Jack splashed even more.

“Am I going to have to beat ‘sir’ out of you?” Jack asked, grabbing Ianto’s tie and tugging him close. “It could be fun, you know. Punishing you for using that awful word.”

“I don’t believe that would be punishment for either one of us.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Ianto, are you trying to tell me that you’d like to be punished?” He pushed Ianto around, pinning his back against the sink. Ianto’s hands dripped onto the floor.

“I said no such thing.”

“Liar.”

“Yet another infraction, I believe. Lying to the boss.”

“You’ve got a long list, Ianto Jones. Such a naughty boy.” Jack shook his head and clucked his tongue. Ianto raised his wet hands and rested them on Jack’s hips. “This was a clean shirt. And now it’s wet.”

“Then you’ll just have to remove it.”

Jack leaned forward and kissed Ianto roughly, his tongue delving into Ianto’s mouth forcefully. Ianto tugged Jack closer against him, sliding his hands lower and grabbing at his ass.

“Upstairs?” Jack asked, pulling away.

“I’ve still got all these dishes,” Ianto sighed, looking over his shoulder at the pile of dirty cups.

“I’m hiring a busboy first thing tomorrow.”

*

A few hours later, Jack got out of bed to open the balcony doors in the stuffy room. Ianto rolled over, the bed warm where Jack had just been, and watched as Jack crossed the room naked.

“Enjoying what you see?” Jack asked, his back still turned away. The open door let in a blast of cool night air. Goosebumps covered Ianto’s sweat-slick skin and he shivered.

“Absolutely.”

Jack looked over his shoulder and smiled coyly, then did what Ianto could only call a strut as he crossed the room. Ianto laughed as Jack dropped back onto the messy sheets in a dramatic flourish and kissed him.

“Don’t you need to go to sleep?” Ianto asked.

“Are you bored with me already?”

“I think it’s impossible to get bored with you around.”

Jack looked at him dubiously. “You’d be surprised.”

Ianto leaned forward and kissed him. “Don’t you have a meeting in a few hours?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t sleep much.”

“I’ve observed that, yes.”

“Tomorrow won’t be hard.”

“You still need to sleep.” Ianto kissed Jack’s shoulder. “Your day starts so much earlier than mine.”

“I can do it with no sleep if I had to. Owen and I have to disperse the shipment of rum that just came in from Jamaica, and then I have to deliver a few cases to buyers uptown. I always enjoy breaking the law in posh apartments.”

“Do you need me to tag along?”

Jack shook his head. “This one’s a small shipment. Owen and I can take care of it.” Jack pointed his finger at Ianto, then pressed the tip against his bare chest and drew lazy circles across his skin. “You work too hard, all the time, so just stay here, sleep, and relax a bit.”

Ianto nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

“You’ll have your work cut out for you tomorrow afternoon when Owen brings in the new shipment.”

“Great. Unloading crates. My favorite job.”

“I could tell you that you didn’t have to do it, but then it might start looking like favoritism.” Jack leaned down and kissed Ianto, drawing his tongue along Ianto’s lower lip. He pulled back slightly, his lips still close enough to tickle Ianto’s. “It’s true you’re my favorite.”

“I should exploit that more,” Ianto said, sliding his fingers into the damp hair at the nape of Jack’s neck.

“You can exploit me anytime you want,” Jack said, pressing a kiss against Ianto’s lips as he shifted between Ianto’s legs.

*

Owen walked into the Hub, followed by a guy around Ianto’s age. Ianto stopped cutting limes and watched them with interest.

“Jones,” Owen started, “this is Mickey. He’s the new busboy.”

“Jack really hired one?” Ianto exclaimed.

“Obviously.”

Ianto turned to Mickey and extended his hand, attempting not to be rude. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ianto.”

“Hey,” Mickey replied, taking Ianto’s hand.

Owen continued showing Mickey around as Ianto finished up the limes. Ianto then walked over and pulled open the door in the floor. Carefully, he walked down the stairs, reaching above him for the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His fingers brushed the chain, and he grabbed it and pulled. Soft yellow light flooded the underground room. The walls were damp and unfinished, concrete and wood showing from under the bits of peeling paint and plaster. A long, dark corridor led deeper underneath the Hub, with doors leading to unused rooms. A dank, sour smell permeated the air.

Stacks of crates lined both walls, grouped by inventory. The stack of scotch crates was still plentiful, the whiskey about half depleted, and the gin and rum completely gone. Ianto walked back up the steps, picked up the closest crate, and carried it below. After he’d carried a few, Owen began to help.

“So, Jones. How’d you get Jack to hire a busboy?” Owen asked as he roughly sat a crate on top of another.

“I didn’t.”

“Bullshit.” Owen crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Tired of washing dishes, were you?”

“Seriously, Owen. I really didn’t do anything. Jack just showed up last night and said he was going to hire someone to bus tables and wash dishes.” He bent down and precisely arranged the crates on top of one another.

“Figures. You fuck the boss long enough and he’ll hire someone to do your job for you.”

Ianto shot up and pointed at Owen. “Look, what’s your problem? I do more than my share around here. I do the work of at least five people and never complain. What crawled up your arse and died today?”

“Five people? In your dreams.”

“I tend bar, play the piano, open for Tosh, run errands for Jack, wash the fucking dishes and mop the fucking floors. What do you do, except tend bar and constantly remind everyone that you’re the boss as much as Jack?”

Owen stepped forward and glared at him. “Fuck you, Jones.”

“Yeah, fuck you. If Jack hired someone so I don’t have to wash fucking dishes after I’ve been working all night, then bless him.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Gwen said, carefully walking down the steps with her arms out, hands searching for something to hold on to. “Who let the big cats play in the same cage?”

Owen turned towards her and spat, “Fuck you, too.”

“Oi! Fuck you. What did I do?” She stepped off the ladder and put her hands on her hips, her lips a hard line. “You two are acting like primadonnas. Now, spill it. What’re you shouting about?”

“Gwen, no one asked you to stick your big nose into anything.”

“There’s no need to be rude to everyone. What’s wrong?”

“Why me? Why don’t you think Jones is to blame?” Owen shouted.

“Because I know Ianto and I know you. Now what’s wrong?”

Owen spat at her feet and hurried up the stairs, mumbling under his breath. Ianto watched him ascend and waited for him to bring more crates down, but he didn’t.

“What in the hell was that?” Gwen asked, turning to Ianto.

“I have no idea.” Ianto shook his head and sighed. “But I don’t believe he’s going to help me finish storing the new shipment.”

“I’ll get Rhys to help!” Gwen started up the ladder. “I met the new guy. I like him. It’s about time Jack hired someone new and stopped making you do all the grunt work. I think we’ve hazed you enough.” She smiled down at Ianto from above and winked, then disappeared. Ianto followed her up and picked up another crate.

*

Rhys, in fact, did not help Ianto stack crates. Ianto spent three hours, up until just before the Hub opened, climbing stairs. Sweat had pooled under his arms and around the neck of his dress shirt, and dust covered his trousers and vest. His tie had some unidentified substance on it, and after spending prolonged time beneath the building, Ianto didn’t even want to know.

Before Rhys began letting patrons inside, Ianto walked into Tosh’s dressing room, waved to her in the mirror as she prepared for the night’s performance, and took the passage upstairs. He stepped into Jack’s office, which was empty. He didn’t know where Jack was, and frankly, he was glad he wasn’t around given his state. Quickly, he jogged to Jack’s room, let himself in with his key, and changed into a fresh suit. Feeling much better, he returned using the same passage.

When he finally stood behind the bar, the first time he’d paused in hours, and began filling the first drink orders, his legs began to feel heavy and stiffen. He obviously didn’t walk up massive amounts of stairs often. And as he reached overhead to pull another bottle of brandy from a cabinet, he realized he didn’t lift heavy loads either.

He’d only been there ten minutes and he wanted to leave.

“Deciding to stop bartending tonight too, Jones?” Owen asked when the rush lulled a bit.

“Just moving slower,” Ianto explained. “Would be moving faster if I hadn’t had to deal with the inventory all alone.”

“Stop your whining.”

“Not whining, just stating facts.”

A few hours later, Gwen flitted over to the counter, her dress longer than usual, but a near obscene flesh color. Ianto stared at her, his eyes taking a moment to see where the dress and skin differed. He whistled.

“That is some dress.”

“Isn’t it fabulous?” She twirled and then struck a pose, pushing the bottom of her bob slightly with her palm. “It’s the latest fashion in Paris.”

“Like you’d know,” Owen retorted as a woman approached the bar.

“I’ll have you know I read all the fashion magazines,” Gwen said, ignoring the woman. “And I’m no stranger to 5th Avenue, either. Just because you have no class doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t.” Ianto smirked.

She spun on her heel and walked beside the bar. As she reached down and slid the strap of her cigarette display over her head, Ianto said, “I think you look lovely. A bit risqué, but lovely.”

“You have taste, Ianto. And class. You’re the Real McCoy, unlike Owen.” Owen flicked her off, but she was already joining the crowd.

Ianto hadn’t seen Jack all night, not that he’d had much of a chance to look for him. He moved so slow behind the bar that he got backed up, but his patrons (most of whom he knew by face at least) were good-natured.

“Come on, Grandpa,” Beth, a flapper who came only on Saturdays, joked as she watched him walking with difficulty over to a tray of freshly washed teacups. Another regular, David, asked him if he was drunk.

“I never drink the merchandise,” Ianto replied with a smile as he handed him a vodka fizz. Though tonight, it probably would have done him some good. Instead, he fixed himself a large pot of coffee and mainlined it all night.

Even when he was up on stage, fatigue interfered with his performance. He played correctly, but he wasn’t as animated or brilliant as he usually was. It was a good thing that playing didn’t require him to lift his arms too far. And as he looked out into the crowd, he still saw no sign of Jack. It wasn’t uncommon for Jack to not show up, but he usually made an appearance on the weekends. Truthfully he was too tired to much care where Jack was.

After the set, Ianto went back behind the bar and spied Tosh sitting on the far end of the bar near Owen. When Owen wasn’t fixing drinks or speaking with patrons, he was right in front of her, elbows on the counter as he leaned close to listen. Ianto watched them as he dried the cups Mickey had just brought from the kitchen. Owen was smiling (which Ianto thought was kind of weird) and Tosh was laughing, her hand on Owen’s arm. Owen grabbed the glass in front of her, to which she protested, and took a long sip from it, then put the rim of the cup against her lips.

He looked away. He didn’t know what was going on down there, but he didn’t want to think about it. As much as he liked Tosh, he didn’t want to think about Owen doing, well, anything. Especially today. Today Ianto felt like busting his nose. He seriously questioned her choice of companion.

When the crowd began to thin around one, Ianto crossed to the other end of the bar. Owen still stood in the same spot, leaning across from Tosh. As Ianto approached, Tosh looked up at him and smiled, eyes glassy. She’d definitely been drinking.

“Ianto!” Tosh said, reaching her hand out and running her hand down his arm.

Ianto nodded his head and turned his attention to Owen. “Can you handle the rest of this? I don’t feel well.”

“Of course he can!” Tosh answered.

“I can, can I?” Owen asked her, eyebrow raised.

“Absolutely. Ianto never leaves early, and he really doesn’t look well. Just look at him.” She frowned at him sympathetically.

“I didn’t say Jones looked good.”

“Thanks. I feel fantastic now.”

“Plus, I’m here! I can help if anything goes wrong.”

“Go home, Jones,” Owen said.

“Or upstairs to Jack,” Tosh said, then covered her mouth in surprise, giggling. Ianto blushed and Owen groaned. “Speaking of which,” she said, lowering her hand, “where is Jack?”

Owen shrugged. “No idea.”

“Me, either.”

“Tell him I said hi. And that I missed him!” Tosh said as Ianto walked away. He heard Owen say, “I’m cutting you off,” and when she protested, he added, “I’m the bartender, I can do as I please.” She giggled.

Ianto didn’t want to see anymore of that, so he quickly walked along the edge of the room towards the dressing room. When he entered Jack’s quarters, the rooms were empty. He needed a bath, and food wouldn’t be terrible either, but instead, he fell face down on the bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes.

Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

*

Ianto stirred, something warm rubbing large circles on his back. He smiled against the sheets and hummed contently.

“Like that?” Jack asked, and Ianto nodded slightly, still humming. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Ianto didn’t move. His body still felt like lead and Jack’s hand was so soothing. After a few moments, Jack leaned down and brushed a kiss against the side of his temple. “I lied. I meant to wake you.”

With great effort, Ianto rolled onto his side and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, he found Jack sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his coat, looking down at him.

“Hi,” Ianto said, voice hoarse.

“Hi.” Jack leaned down and kissed him, his lips gentle and slow. Ianto sighed into his mouth, and Jack used the moment to slip his tongue lightly inside Ianto’s mouth, sweeping it across Ianto’s tongue and flicking it against the roof of his mouth. When he sat back up, Ianto didn’t move. “Why are you still dressed?”

“Why are you?”

“I just got in.”

“What time is it?” Ianto didn’t bother moving to look at the bedside clock. Jack checked his watch.

“Just after four.”

“Where have you been? You could have been dead on the side of the street and I’d never known.”

“Were you worried?” Jack stood up and shrugged out of his coat. He hung it on the coat rack in the corner as he toed off his shoes and socks. Ianto shifted so he could have a better view.

“Not at all.” Jack shot him a dubious glance. “Maybe a little, but I’d never get seriously worried unless it was the next night and you still hadn’t shown up. Then I’d probably give it a day or two before I arranged the search party.” Ianto smiled and Jack laughed quietly.

“Good to know.” He tugged his braces down, yanked his shirt from his trousers, and began unbuttoning it. “Remember those shipments I told you about last night?” Ianto nodded as Jack slid off his shirt. “I had to deliver quite a few orders to VIP clients. The kind of clients you don’t say no to when they ask you to stay and have a drink, what about a game of cards?” Jack sighed and started to undo the fly of his trousers. “I had dinner and drinks with one couple at the Waldorf-Astoria,” he explained as Ianto watched him slide his trousers down his legs, a familiar flush spreading at the sight of Jack’s bare long legs, “then I had multiple deliveries at the Grand Central Hotel, which turned into a rather large party.” He dropped onto the bed beside Ianto, clad only in his undershirt and shorts. “It’s a good thing I’m skilled at diverting my drink. Come to think of it, none of them seemed to notice whether I was drinking or not.”

“Sounds like a horrible night, sir,” Ianto said, the corner of his mouth upturned. He still felt exhausted, but just having Jack beside him helped him relax.

“I’ve explained myself,” he said quietly, so close that Ianto could feel his hot breath on his mouth, “but you still haven’t told me why I found you asleep fully dressed.”

“I think I’m broken.” Jack’s face instantly lost all its levity and he raised himself up on his elbow, worried. Ianto shook his head and grabbed Jack’s shoulder, easing him back down. “I’m fine. I had to store all the inventory alone. It led me to discover that I am severely out of shape.”

Jack grinned, eyes wicked. “I’d have thought you got plenty of exercise.”

“Apparently not.”

“We definitely will have to remedy that.” Jack slung an arm around Ianto’s waist and kissed him, rolling Ianto onto his back as he settled his hips on his lap.

“I believe we haven’t been working the proper muscle groups.”

“Maybe we’re getting boring,” Jack said thoughtfully as he stretched his legs and unconsciously rubbed a foot along Ianto’s calf. Ianto kissed his cheek. “Why didn’t Owen or Rhys help you?”

“Owen started helping me, but then we ended up yelling at each other and cursing so loudly Gwen stepped in.” Jack laughed, and Ianto rolled his eyes. “It’s not funny. I’d like to see how you like a very disgruntled Owen yelling at you for no reason.”

“It’s happened before. I generally just ignore him.”

Ianto scoffed. “I’d love to. He’s never very pleasant, but he was in an uncharacteristically bad mood tonight.”

“Hmm,” Jack murmured, staring at a spot above Ianto’s shoulder. “I bet…”

“What?” Ianto pinched Jack’s side to draw his attention.

“Owen’s deliveries didn’t turn out quite like he’d hoped.” Jack ran a hand from Ianto’s forehead into his hair, threading his fingers in the messy strands. He rubbed slow circles across Ianto’s scalp. Ianto’s eyes slid shut as he nearly melted onto the bed. “First, the rumrunners tried to screw us on the prices of the Jamaican rum, and Owen almost punched the ship captain.” Jack chuckled and Ianto pushed against his hand, Jack’s voice and fingers lulling him slowly. “Then when he dropped off one of the shipments at an apartment uptown, the man accused Owen of overcharging him and then giving him bathtub gin instead of the real thing. I think you know Owen well enough to know that he didn’t take kindly to those accusations.”

“Mmhmm.”

Jack moved his hand and Ianto opened his eyes, disappointed. “Were you even listening?”

“Owen had a bad day. Got it.”

Jack leaned down to kiss him. “What hurts?”

“Everything.”

Jack sat back on Ianto’s thighs and motioned for him to sit up. “Come on. Up.”

“Jack, it’s after 4. I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep.”

“Not before I help you.”

Ianto groaned as he reluctantly sat up. “I’m too tired for your kind of help.”

Jack shook his head. “We may have to rethink this relationship.”

Ianto tried his best to glare at him. “If I wasn’t so tired, I’d say something extremely mean, yet witty.”

“I’m sure you would,” Jack laughed, leaning forward and kissing him quickly. He then slid back and settled between Ianto’s legs, loosening his tie and quickly pulling it off. Then Jack started unbuttoning Ianto’s shirt and Ianto rolled his eyes. “It’s not what you think,” Jack said as he unbuttoned the last one. He slid his hands underneath the shirt and slid both it and the vest over Ianto’s shoulders. Ianto lifted his hands while Jack finished removing the clothing and tossing it on the floor. Ianto looked at the crumpled pile in resignation. “You can take them to the cleaners. The wrinkles will come out,” Jack teased as he tugged at the hem of Ianto’s undershirt and pulled it over his head. Although Ianto was too tired for whatever Jack had planned, he knew it was futile to resist, and maybe if he played along, he could get back to sleep soon. “I’ve never had anyone look so bored as you do right now while I was undressing them.”

“I apologize that my fatigue has wounded your ego,” Ianto deadpanned. Jack pinched a nipple and kissed him, then made quick work of removing Ianto’s socks, shoes, and trousers. Despite his irritation, his body responded to Jack’s touch, and that just annoyed him further.

“I’ll have you know that I have completely pure intentions,” Jack explained, and when Ianto looked at him dubiously, Jack added, “for right now, at least.”

“Of course,” Ianto said, though a smile began tugging at his lips.

“Relax,” Jack said, “please?”

“Fine.” Ianto took a deep breath as Jack reached forward and started rubbing his shoulders. Ianto couldn’t help it when a soft oh escaped his lips, and he tried to ignore Jack’s complacent grin. Jack shifted onto his knees for a different angle, his fingers pressing roughly into Ianto’s tight muscles. Ianto sighed and started to slump, and Jack removed his hands.

“Turn over,” Jack instructed.

“Why? This is perfect.”

“Because I can’t very well perform a complete back massage from the front, can I?” Jack tugged Ianto’s shoulders, trying to force him over. “Come on, turn over.”

“No.” Ianto lay down, arms crossed over his chest. “I feel better now. Can we just sleep?”

Jack studied him, confused. “What’s wrong? You don’t feel better; you’re just as tense as you were when we began.” Jack swung a leg over Ianto’s lap and leaned over him, cupping his cheek gently. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Ianto looked away, trying to move his crossed arms with Jack’s weight on them. Jack lifted slightly so he could free them, and he let them fall to the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just drop it?”

“Absolutely not.” Jack took his chin between his fingers and forced him to look him in the eye. “Don’t shut me out. Talk to me.”

“I…” Ianto started, and Jack nodded encouragingly, “Idon’twantyoutotouchmyback,” he said quickly.

Jack’s face scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you to touch my back.” Ianto pushed Jack off him and looked away, crossing his arms. “Now can we go to bed?” Ianto really wanted to curl up and shut everything out, especially Jack, but that was difficult with Jack’s limbs covering him again. He lay there, embarrassed and uncomfortable, waiting for Jack to say something. When he remained quiet uncharacteristically long, Ianto peeked at him from the corner of his eyes. Jack was staring down at him oddly. “What?”

“What…why…what are you talking about?” Jack exclaimed. “That was quite possibly the most inane thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Thanks, Jack. Thanks a lot.”

“What the fuck do I say to that? I touch you all the time - all of you – and I’ve seen your back countless times. It’s not exactly a secret.”

“It’s different,” Ianto muttered, dropping his head to the side. Jack’s arm was beside his face and he could see the soft hairs on the underside of his bicep.

“Explain to me how it’s different. Please. Educate me.”

“Because when we’re fucking you’re not paying attention to it. When I’m walking across the room, it’s not there, in your face, all the horror and scars and ugliness under your scrutiny.” Ianto’s cheeks burned and he stared intently at a spot on Jack’s chest.

“Is that what this is about?” Jack asked softly. Ianto, taken aback at his tone, slowly looked up at him. Jack’s face was soft, sad. He stroked the side of Ianto’s face gently. “Do you think seeing it up close would repulse me?”

“How could it not?” Ianto responded, voice thick. “There’s nothing beautiful about it. It’s disgusting. How could you sit there and stare at it, touch it, and not be repulsed?”

“Oh Ianto.” He leaned down to cover Ianto’s lips. “You’ve got to let it go someday,” he said against Ianto’s lips. “I love every part of you,” and when Ianto grunted in disbelief, he kissed him hard. “Every part of you.” Jack crawled to the bottom of the bed and cupped Ianto’s foot, stroking his thumb down the center of his sole. “Your feet and toes,” he began, placing a kiss on the top of his foot, “behind your knee,” he continued, sliding his hand over the curve of Ianto’s calf and licking at the crease of his leg. Ianto wanted to be mad, wanted to push Jack away and tell him to stop, but Jack’s face was so open, so beautiful as he placed kisses along his leg that he couldn’t speak. His emotions threatened to overwhelm him, so he swallowed and watched as Jack kept going.

“The inside of your thigh,” Jack said, kissing it lightly and then rubbing his cheek against it. “I’ll be honest, the inside of your thigh is one of my favorites.” His hands moved up over his pants, then he hooked two fingers inside the band and pulled them off, revealing Ianto’s half-hard cock. Ianto cursed his lack of control when it came to Jack.

Jack placed a kiss against the crease of his hip, on the underside of his balls, the tip of his cock. Ianto’s cock grew harder at the feel of Jack’s soft lips against him. “All of this is my favorite, too,” he said, smiling mischievously. Jack labored over the rest of his body, trailing kisses from Ianto’s bellybutton to his right nipple (which Jack admitted to unfortunately liking just a bit better than the left), over to the spot just above his heart, his shoulder, his bicep, the inside of his wrist. Slowly, Jack kissed the tip of each of Ianto’s fingers before slipping them inside his mouth and sucking gently. Ianto’s cock was at full attention now, heat radiating from the site of each of Jack’s kisses, his lips leaving a trail of tingling sensation behind them. Ianto wanted to close his eyes, lose himself in the feeling of Jack’s mouth covering nearly his entire body, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Jack. Every time Jack named a new part of his body, he looked at Ianto with wide eyes, bright with intensity.

Jack kissed the inside of his palm. “I love your palm, your whole hand, especially when it’s wrapped around my cock,” Jack joked, and Ianto laughed quietly. “I love the base of your collarbone,” he said, dragging his teeth along the bone, “the spot behind your left ear, every spot on your neck, your chin,” kiss “cheek” kiss “temple” kiss “hair” kiss “nose” kiss. “Eyes, god I fucking love your eyes,” Jack said, voice husky as he gently kissed both of Ianto’s eyelids, “and your mouth.”

Jack finally covered Ianto’s mouth with his own, and Ianto almost came from the touch of his tongue alone. He wrapped his arms around Jack tightly, pressing his body as closely as he could get it. His entire body was on fire, his cock aching to be touched. His fingers pulled at Jack’s hair, pushing their faces closer together as their lips and teeth crashed together, his tongue pressing against Jack’s like he willed them to meld together. Jack’s hands roamed Ianto’s face, fingers trying to memorize the skin beneath them. Ianto shifted against Jack, his cock searching for something to touch, and at that moment, Jack’s leg would suffice. Ianto rubbed his hips against Jack’s leg for a few moments until Jack caught on, and then Jack wrapped his fingers around Ianto’s cock. Two strokes and Ianto bucked into Jack’s fist, coming over his hand as he moaned into his mouth. Jack continued stroking him until Ianto whimpered, and then he brought his hand to his lips and licked a string of come off his finger. “I also love this.”

Ianto wrapped his hand around Jack’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss, tasting himself on Jack’s tongue. He felt Jack’s hard cock against his hip, and refusing to stop kissing him, he reached into Jack’s shorts and closed his fist around his cock. Jack moaned, and Ianto pumped his fist, Jack thrusting his hips into Ianto’s hand. The longer Ianto stroked him, the sloppier Jack’s kiss became, all open mouth and tongue with little finesse or sense of direction. With a few muttered curses and noises, Jack thrust more erratically and came, warm liquid covering Ianto’s hand and the surrounding cloth. Ianto pulled his hand away and looked around for something to clean it off with, but Jack took hold of his hand and brought it to his lips. Ianto watched as Jack’s pink tongue darted out and licked his own come from Ianto’s fingers, then he pressed the hand towards Ianto’s face, and although he felt a bit self-conscious, he licked at his fingers. Jack pushed his hand away and kissed him again.

“You lied to me,” Ianto said breathlessly when they finally parted. Jack looked at him in confusion. “You didn’t have completely pure intentions.”

Jack laughed loudly as Ianto rolled over, picked up his shorts from the floor, and wiped his hand on them. “Will you roll over now? My intentions were really just to give you a back massage. Apparently, I’m helpless against your charms, Ianto.”

“You know I’m still not comfortable with this.”

Jack kissed his forehead. “I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand what the difference is between giving you a massage and sleeping with your back towards me, changing, or me taking you from behind. I don’t even notice it anymore.” He kissed his lips lightly. “It bothers you more than me.” Ianto sighed, shifted from under Jack and rolled over onto his stomach. “See, was that so difficult?” Ianto turned towards Jack, who had stood up to remove his soiled underwear. Ianto didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing Jack naked. Sometimes, it still took him by surprise that Jack was, well, a man and he was so attracted to him.

Jack crawled back onto the bed and straddled Ianto’s back, settling just below his ass. Ianto took a deep breath, trying to quell the embarrassment of being so exposed in front of him. “Relax,” Jack whispered. “You’re beautiful. I love your back and your scars.”

“How can you?”

“Because they’re part of you.” Jack trailed his fingers along lines of scars, tracing the grotesque patterns like a map. His hands on Ianto’s skin was indescribable – part of him wanted to scream, push Jack away and cover his ugliness, but the other part melted into Jack’s touch, longed to feel fingers touch him where he had never been touched. Jack’s hands covered every part of his scar, his nails dragging across the beginning of the marred flesh at Ianto’s shoulder, following the unclean line as it dipped below his neck into the middle of his back (leaving just a bit of it normal and smooth), then below the other shoulder blade where it stopped at his armpit. Ianto shivered as Jack rubbed his cheek across the middle of his back, the nexus of the impact and site of the most severe marks. He dropped a kiss on the core, then licked his tongue from there south, where the scars ended. Jack kissed the bottom corner at Ianto’s hip, then followed the uneven line with his lips along the irregular diagonal the led upwards, towards his side, leaving most of his left hip untouched.

Jack continued his ministrations until every inch of Ianto’s scar had been kissed and touched. Ianto felt raw and exposed, his body trembling, heart racing. Jack leaned down to cover his body, sliding his hand along the back of Ianto’s arm and threading their fingers, then kissed the side of his neck, across his face, until he reached Ianto’s lips. When Ianto felt Jack’s lips brush against his he lifted his head and pressed closer, his tongue searching for stability and purchase inside Jack’s sure, warm mouth. He needed to say something – explain to Jack what he was feeling – but words failed him. Instead, he tried to say it through his mouth.

When Jack pulled away and sat up, he kissed Ianto’s shoulder blade then started rubbing the skin. Jack’s hands were strong and sure, his fingers knowing exactly where to push. As the pressure of Jack’s fingers shifted along his back, chills radiated down his spine and his entire body began to relax. Jack’s hands covered his entire back, from his waist all the way to his neck, stopping at a few places to knead extremely tight knots.

“I think I’m going to hire a bar back,” Jack said as he rubbed deep circles into the chords of Ianto’s neck. With Jack’s hands working over him, Ianto had almost drifted to sleep. “I don’t want you carrying anymore crates up and down the stairs. This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said sleepily. Jack huffed, but remained silent, his hands spreading across Ianto’s shoulder blades as Ianto dozed off again.

When Jack got down to the muscles low in Ianto’s back, he said, “I hope this doesn’t sound like a come on – “

“I’m used to it by now from you,” Ianto joked, mouth barely forming words. Jack pinched the skin on his ass hard. “Ow. Abusive.”

“As I was saying, this isn’t really a come on, but,” Jack said, his hands sliding lower, “but you have the most perfect ass.” He cupped Ianto’s cheeks and rubbed large circles.

“Thank you, I think.”

“It’s definitely a compliment.” Jack slapped his ass, then rolled off Ianto’s back. “Are you asleep?”

“No,” Ianto said without opening his eyes.

“Liar.” He could hear the smile in Jack’s voice, causing him to smile in return. Jack kissed his forehead. “Slide under the blanket and I promise I’ll let you sleep.”

“Promises, promises,” Ianto muttered as he reluctantly pushed himself up. Jack stood up and pulled the covers back, and Ianto moved around until he was underneath them. When Jack settled, Ianto curled up against him, head resting on his chest. Jack shifted and he heard the click of the bedside lamp, and then Jack wrapped his arms around him.

“I love you,” Jack whispered against his hair.

“Love you, too,” he mumbled, sleep claiming him very quickly.

“Sweet dreams, Ianto.”

*

He was crossing a field, his elbows sinking into the muddy sludge as he crawled on his stomach towards the trenches on the German side. Artillery fire blasted through the night, sporadic bursts of red-orange fireworks against the inky sky. The pack on his back was heavy, so heavy the straps were cutting into his shoulders, and it became harder and harder to lift his limbs with each motion that propelled his body forward. His unit was behind him, calling out in English and French.

He crawled underneath barbwire, his pack catching on the low strands, and when he tried to pull it free, it held firm. The men continued crawling ahead of him, leaving him behind, and he called out, but they didn’t stop. Then a group of soldiers came running towards them from behind enemy lines, machine guns sputtering loudly, and Ianto tried to stand up, tried to run, but he got tangled in the barbwire, the thin metal wrapping around his wrists and ankles, holding him to the ground, slicing into his wrists, the barbs piercing his skin. He cried out for help, and a soldier ran towards him, said something in German and fired his machine gun into his exposed back. The bullets pelted him, sending explosions of pain through the core of his body as the bullets entered and exited the other side and his insides mixed with the mud and muck.

“Ianto,” Jack said against his ear, his voice cutting through as the visions and pain dissolved. “Ianto.” Ianto rolled towards Jack, trembling. Jack wrapped his arms around him tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. “What was it this time?”

“Frontlines, barbwire, German hostiles shooting me with a machine gun,” Ianto croaked, voice ragged. He inhaled deeply, nostrils filling with Jack. Jack placed a kiss on Ianto’s temple and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s been months since you’ve had a nightmare,” he observed quietly, almost to himself. “I was hoping they’d left you.”

“I don’t think they’ll ever leave me.” Ianto ached inside, his back and limbs still tingling where the bullets pierced in the dream.

“One day,” Jack said. He kissed Ianto’s forehead. “I think they’re getting better, though.”

“They don’t feel better.”

“This time you didn’t cry out. I felt you twitching and heard you making soft noises.”

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Ianto buried his face against Jack’s neck, kissed it softly.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to apologize – ever – for this?” Ianto shifted in Jack’s embrace, but couldn’t get comfortable. His body felt supercharged, his mind dark. “Are you okay?”

Ianto pulled free of Jack’s arms and sat up, running a hand across his face. “No. Every time I close my eyes, I smell rotting earth and see…things I don’t want to see.” Jack reached out for him, but Ianto swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“I feel like I need to walk this off.” He circled the room, his naked body shivering in the morning chill, then sat in the chair in the corner. “I can leave. I don’t want to keep you up, but I’m not going to be able to fall back asleep for a bit.” He looked outside at the bright sunshine. “I feel like a vampire. It’s morning and I’m asleep, yet I stay up all night.”

Jack got out of bed and crossed the room quickly, kneeling at his feet, hands resting gently on his thighs. “Are you okay? Really? I’m a bit worried about you.”

Ianto snorted. “I’m just dandy.”

“Why do you do that? It’s okay if you’re not okay.” He slid his hands up higher, cupping Ianto’s bare hips, thumbs drawing lines across his leg.

“I’m just tired, Jack.” He slumped back into the chair. “Go back to sleep. There’s no need for you to stay awake because I had a bad night.”

“Well, actually,” Jack said, stroking his thumbs closer and closer to Ianto’s groin, “now I’m distracted.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Ianto peered down between Jack’s legs and saw that his cock was definitely awake and alert. He looked down at his own soft cock and laughed.

“And here I thought we were having a serious conversation.”

“We were,” Jack said, kissing Ianto’s knee, “but it’s over. And I’m sorry if I can’t help getting distracted by your naked body that was all over the flat for the last ten minutes.” He kissed up the inside of Ianto’s thigh and flicked his tongue against Ianto’s balls, causing Ianto’s legs to fall open.

“Damn you,” Ianto groaned, his cock hardening slowly in Jack’s hands. Jack wrapped his lips around the length, and all blood and sensation rushed south as Jack’s tongue slowly stroked the underside. Despite himself, Ianto gripped Jack’s hair, holding his head as it bobbed up and down. A few grunts escaped his throat as Jack’s tongue swirled around the shaft, around the tip, his lips squeezing as he sucked. Ianto held Jack’s head down as he bucked up into his mouth and came. Jack sucked it gently as it softened, then let it fall from his lips.

Raising up on his knees, he kissed Ianto messily, his tongue salty, and then stood up, his hard cock waiting at eye level. Ianto chuckled at Jack’s insistence, grabbed him at the base of the shaft, and slid his mouth around it. Jack made a noise in the back of his throat, his body bent slightly as it gripped Ianto’s shoulders. Ianto kept his fingers tight around the shaft as Jack fucked his mouth, his hips thrusting at a quick pace. Ianto held his tongue flat against the underside, his mouth sucking hard on the tip every time Jack pulled away. “Fuck, Ianto,” Jack muttered as he thrust roughly a few times, and then he squirted come down the back of Ianto’s throat, Ianto quickly trying to swallow it all.

Jack dropped down into Ianto’s lap heavily, his body flush and damp. He wrapped his arms around Ianto’s neck, bent down, and sleepily nuzzled the side of his neck. Ianto wondered how and where he folded all his long limbs in the chair. He brushed his lips across the underside of Ianto’s chin and hummed contently.

“Feel better?” Ianto asked as he lightly scratched his nails down Jack’s arm.

“I should’ve been making you feel better,” Jack said, hugging Ianto closer to him.

“You did. My dream is already forgotten.” He smiled against Jack’s hair because it was actually true. He hadn’t wanted to do anything but sit in the chair and mope, but Jack had successfully distracted him. He was tired now, but still not sleepy.

“Bed now?” Jack asked, sitting up. His eyes drooped, his face slack.

Ianto kissed him. “You go ahead. I think I’m going to sit here and read for awhile.”

“But I thought you felt better,” Jack said, crawling off Ianto’s lap with some difficulty. “Come to bed with me.”

“Let me grab a book.” While Ianto chose a book from the small case next to Jack’s desk, Jack slipped back into bed. After Ianto sat back and settled against his pillow, Jack wrapped an arm around his waist and fell asleep with his head in Ianto’s lap.

*

Ianto rapped on the door and waited for permission to enter. Then, he opened the door to Jack’s office and stepped inside. A stack of papers fanned from Jack’s left hand, his right holding a pen over a document on his desk.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Jack asked as Ianto took the seat across from him. “What time did you finally fall back asleep?”

“I read for about two hours. But I feel fine, thank you.”

Jack studied him a moment, looked like he was about to say something, but then changed his mind. He set the pen and papers on the desk and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you’re here. A foreign investor has expressed interest in acquiring some property in Manhattan for a restaurant, a lot in Buffalo for a strip mall, and acreage for a summer home in the Catskills. I’m having difficulty procuring the right properties based on his specifications.”

“What can I do to help?”

Jack handed him a stack of deeds, land descriptions, and buildings for sale. “Start going through those.” He showed him the specifications. “If anything seems like it would possibly work, set it to the side.”

Ianto and Jack silently sorted through papers, their “maybe” stacks a lot smaller than the discarded ones. After an hour, Jack sat back and rubbed his eyes, circled around the room, then sat back down again. Ianto slipped out of the office and down the hall to the employee break room, where he fixed a large pot of coffee. He brought a cup back to the office and set it in front of Jack, and silently returned to his work. Jack lifted the cup and took a careful sip, then reached out and squeezed Ianto’s elbow.

*

Three hours later, Jack and Ianto were still slouched over the desk. Ianto’s neck and shoulders were tense, his back aching from sitting in the bent position for so long. They’d gone through two pots of coffee during the course of the day, and as the yellow late afternoon sun began shining through the floor length windows in the office, Ianto contemplated brewing another pot.

He’d found a number of suitable places in the Catskills, and even lots in Buffalo that may work, but finding the right property in Manhattan was difficult. He hadn’t found one deed or building that he deemed acceptable. From Jack’s periodic sighs and grunts, he must have been fairing similarly.

Suddenly, Jack scraped his large leather desk chair along the floor and stood up. Ianto flicked his eyes towards him as he headed for the door, but then returned to his work. What he really needed to be doing was balancing the ledgers with the numbers from the recent liquor shipments, but Jack deemed this project a priority, so the ledgers would have to wait.

He heard Jack’s footsteps fall softly on the carpet behind him when he returned. Then, taking him by surprise, he felt fingertips press strongly against the side of his neck. Forgetting about the papers in front of him, Ianto closed his eyes and let his head hang as Jack’s nimble fingers rubbed the tight chords in his neck.

“So tense yet again,” Jack murmured. “I just gave you a massage.”

“I’ve been tense since I was a teenager,” Ianto said half-heartedly, an attempt at a joke. Too bad it was partially true.

“Thank you for helping me today.” Jack’s fingers circled roughly, points digging into the tired muscles.

“It’s my job.” Jack’s fingers moved upward, right behind his ears and then around under the base of his hairline.

“I still appreciate it.” Jack splayed all his fingers along the curve of Ianto’s neck, the tips fluttering against the skin. “I don’t think I am going to find exactly what he wants. He wants it soon, but something this specific takes time.” Ianto grabbed Jack’s hand and stood up, tugging Jack down into the chair he just vacated. “What are you doing?”

“You need this more than me.”

Reluctantly, Jack sat in the chair and let Ianto work the tired sinews in his neck and shoulders. Ianto could feel the tension radiating from Jack’s body, but as he moved his fingers around the skin, Jack loosened under his touch. After a few moments, Jack dropped his head back against Ianto’s waist, his eyes closed. Ianto looked down into Jack’s upturned face, at the stress lines covering his face.

“I don’t know why you got into real estate,” Ianto said, fingers pressing an irregular pattern along the smooth length of Jack’s neck. “It’s dreadful.”

Jack smiled, eyes still closed. “It’s usually not this difficult. And it really is a legitimate way to make a tidy profit. And if I can pull this off, I will make one of the largest profits I ever have. Too bad I have to report it to the IRS.”

“If you think of the profit margin you don’t report to the IRS,” Ianto said, dipping his fingers inside the collar of Jack’s shirt to massage the muscles spreading across his shoulders, “I still believe you have respectfully screwed the government.”

“Thank you for putting it into perspective for me, Ianto,” Jack said sarcastically. Ianto bent down and kissed his pouting mouth.

“That’s what I’m paid for.”

Jack opened his eyes, but didn’t move. Ianto moved his hands higher, kneading circles along Jack’s scalp. Jack’s eyes fluttered shut again as Ianto moved over sensitive areas around his temples. “I may need you to go check out some of these places around Manhattan. I’ll do the travelling to some of the farther places, but I’ll need your help.”

“Anything, always.”

“What would I do without you?” Jack looked up at him with so much adoration that Ianto felt uncomfortable.

“Get your neck massages from Owen.”

Jack laughed, then shuddered. “Perish the thought.”

At that moment, they heard a soft knock on the door. Ianto stepped away as Jack called out. Mary, the theater concession girl, stepped inside and looked between the two of them uncertainly.

“Mr. Harkness,” she started, voice shaky and timid, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but your five o’clock appointment has arrived downstairs.”

“Thank you, Mary.” Jack stood up and smiled brightly at her. “And by the way, that dress is lovely. Green is really your color.”

Mary visibly softened under Jack’s smile and praise, and a blush spread across her cheeks. As Jack grabbed his coat, she curtsied and hurried out the door. Jack stopped in front of Ianto on his way out.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He wrapped his fingers around Ianto’s arm.

“Do you want me to finish going through these papers?” Ianto pointed to the mess they left on the desk.

Jack shook his head. “Absolutely not. And don’t worry about the ledgers today. Get some dinner and do whatever you want before work.” Jack leaned closer and dragged his lips along Ianto’s jawline. “I wish I could eat dinner with you. We haven’t had dinner together in ages.”

“You’re a busy man.” Jack kissed a line across Ianto’s cheek, then covered his mouth. Jack was all tongue, sloppy and wet, and it was over too soon. He pressed his forehead against Ianto’s, face so close their chins bumped.

“Duty calls.” He kissed Ianto’s lips again, then stepped away, leaving Ianto slightly light-headed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

And with that, Jack was gone and Ianto left standing alone in his office.

*

A few nights later, Gwen and Tosh stopped talking the moment he walked into the dressing room. They were huddled together, but the moment they detected him, they sprung apart and smiled innocently.

“What is it?” Ianto asked suspiciously. “You two look like the cats who ate the canary.”

“No cats here,” Tosh said, shaking her head with a smile. “Just a canary.”

“No feathers in our mouths,” Gwen said.

“Only on our heads,” Tosh added, pointing to the elaborate headpieces on both their heads. Ianto raised an eyebrow and stared at them, and after a few moments, he rolled his eyes and went about his business.

All night everyone acted oddly around him. Gwen and Tosh kept shooting him glances, Rhys smiled knowingly, and even Owen eyed him strangely. Finally, Ianto had enough and turned to Owen.

“What?” he exclaimed when the bar was empty. “Why is everyone looking at me weirdly?”

Owen sighed. “What are you talking about, Jones?”

“Is Jack going to fire me? Am I getting fired?”

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful,” Owen said, sarcastically Ianto hoped.

“What is it then?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Owen said. “And even if I did, I’m more afraid of what Gwen and Tosh will do to me than you.”

“Then there is something!”

“I didn’t say that.” Owen smiled and then pulled a teacup down as a flapper approached the bar. Ianto wondered what it could be, but nothing made any sense. Jack wasn’t mad at him – he’d almost been late for a meeting because when he’d kissed Ianto goodbye, it dissolved into messy handjobs that caused them both to have to change their trousers. Gwen and Tosh didn’t look angry – they looked up to something. He finally figured it was moot trying to figure out what the two of them were doing, so he tried to ignore all the glances and concentrate on tending bar instead.

That worked out great until Jack showed up. Over the shoulder of a tall brunette in a rather short skirt, Jack looked at Ianto, smiled and winked as usual, and then caught Gwen’s eye and gave her the same smile Tosh had been giving her all night. He definitely knew something was up if Jack was giving Gwen all-knowing-inside-joke glances.

When Jack looked his way again, Ianto motioned for him with his head. Jack extracted himself from the seemingly many hands of the woman and crossed the room. He stood over to the side, away from the bar. Ianto walked over to him.

“Jealous?” Jack joked with his irritating face-splitting grin.

“Hardly.”

“She is handsy. I generally appreciate a handsy date, but I don’t really think she’s my type. I prefer young, Welsh bartenders.” Jack reached behind Ianto and pinched his ass.

“What are Gwen and Tosh planning?” Ianto asked, not bothering to move away from Jack’s hand that had settled on his rear. Jack’s face actually looked shocked for a moment before he recovered.

“I have no clue what you are talking about.”

“Liar.”

Jack looked affronted. “I’m hurt, Ianto, that you believe I would lie to you.”

“I’m not being fired, or locked in the basement, or made to sing naked in front of everyone, am I?” Ianto asked uncertainly.

Jack laughed. “Of course not! None of those things, though what I would give to see the last one…we might have to arrange for a private, nude concert…”

“Jack.” Ianto snapped his fingers. “Focus.”

Jack pecked Ianto quickly on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Then you do know!” Ianto called out as Jack walked away. Jack just looked over his shoulder and smiled.

*

Ianto wondered if everyone had been putting him on. Owen had left a bit ago to walk Tosh home, and Rhys and Gwen had left a few minutes prior. He was alone, putting away the last of the teacups. Even Mickey had gone home, after finishing the dishes and the sweeping and mopping. Ianto guessed he was still there out of habit. He’d been the last one to leave almost every night since he’d begun, and he liked it that way. Though he didn’t miss the dishes, mopping, and sweeping.

He was just about to turn out the light when a large noise erupted from one of the side rooms. Ianto reached under the bar and grabbed his gun, quickly pointing it towards the source.

“Surprise!” a chorus of voices shouted, then fell silent when they saw the revolver pointed at them. Jack, Owen, Tosh, Gwen, and Rhys were huddled in front of one of the poker rooms, Tosh holding a large cake alight with candles. Ianto stared at them in confusion, still aiming the gun.

“What in the bloody – “ Owen started, but was interrupted by loud laughing. Five faces turned towards Jack, who was near hysterical.

“I told you he’d be pissed,” he said, wiping his eyes. Then Tosh giggled, followed by a chuckle from Rhys, Owen, and Gwen. Ianto groaned in embarrassment and laid his gun on the counter.

Rhys said, “Oi! We just wanted to surprise you, not get popped off.”

“Yeah, why’d you pull a gun on us? Who’d you think was here?” Owen asked.

Ianto ran a hand over his face. “I haven’t had the best luck with surprise visits.”

Tosh’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, we should’ve thought.”

“No, he needs to calm the fuck down,” Owen said. “Well, surprise, Jones. We’re celebrating, or some shit.”

“Celebrating?” Ianto echoed.

“Your six month anniversary!” Gwen exclaimed.

“My what?”

“You’ve worked here for six months. Well, a little over, but the same principle,” Tosh explained.

“You’re throwing me a party?”

“Why did Jones all of a sudden get so bloody stupid?” Owen said. “I think we scared all the sense out of him.” Ianto gave Owen the finger. “Nope, I think he’s recovered.”

“It was Tosh and Gwen’s idea,” Jack explained, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Ianto loosely. “Now, come blow out your candles, well, the ones still lit.”

Ianto let Jack lead him over to the cake Tosh still held, and he blew out the two candles still alight. The others burst into applause.

“Now, let’s go in here and eat some cake!” Tosh said excitedly as she stepped back into the room, flipping the light on with her elbow as she entered.

“I’ll get the liquor,” Rhys said as he rushed over to the bar.

Owen pulled something from his pocket. “I’ve got the cards,” he said, riffling the deck.

*

“I think you’re cheating!” Owen shouted, throwing his cards on the table. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“It’s not my fault that your poker face is shite,” Ianto said, sitting back and crossing his arms smugly.

“That’s another shot,” Gwen said, filling up the teacup and sliding it over to Owen, whiskey sloshing over the rim.

“Party foul!” Jack cried.

“Overspill!” Rhys said as Gwen looked for a towel.

Owen reluctantly drained the cup, then tossed it onto the table, where it landed on its side and rolled towards the edge. Rhys stopped it before it fell over.

“There. Fucking happy?” Owen glared across the table at Ianto. Ianto just smiled.

“Don’t forget a piece of clothing,” Tosh said into her cup, face red.

Owen turned his glare on her and pointed his finger. “You, you little minx. You’re enjoying seeing me suffer, aren’t you?”

“She just wants to see you get naked,” Jack said from across the table. He was wearing only his underwear. “I second that.”

“Here here!” Gwen said, banging her fist on the table. Rhys looked at Ianto and rolled his eyes.

“You’re all depraved,” Owen said, pointing his finger at all them as he stood up. He was shirtless but still wearing his trousers. Slowly, like a show, he unbuttoned the fly and slid them down. He kicked them over into the growing pile of clothes behind the table. “Get your fill, ladies.” Owen turned around then sat down. Ianto had to admit, Owen didn’t look half bad without clothes.

“Oh I’m drunk,” Ianto declared.

“Sick at the sight of Owen near naked?” Rhys asked. Ianto laughed as Owen cursed him.

“Tosh, your deal,” Gwen said, pushing the cards towards her. Tosh still had on all her clothes save the mink and her shoes, Gwen was down to her bra and panties, Rhys in an undershirt and trousers, and Ianto down his tie, vest and shoes.

“I think it’s unfair that Jones has on so many clothes,” Owen complained. “He’s wearing twice the rest of us put together.”

“Would it make you feel better if I took off a few more items?” Ianto stood up a bit unsteadily, and Jack grabbed his thigh to help, and left his hand there a bit longer than needed. “Fine. I’ll give you a handicap so you’ll stop your whining.”

“Ouch!” Gwen shouted as Rhys and Tosh booed.

“Fuck you, Jones.”

Ianto unbuttoned his dress shirt and tossed it behind Owen into the pile. He left his undershirt on because although Jack had forced him to become comfortable with his scars around him, there was no way Ianto would feel comfortable under the scrutinizing eyes of everyone else. Then he bent down, Jack’s hand still holding onto the back of his thigh, and pulled off his socks and threw them. He plopped back into the chair. “Feel better?”

Owen shot him a bird.

Tosh shuffled and dealt the hand, and after all the bets, it was Rhys against Jack. When Rhys won, Jack grinned widely.

“That’s just too bad isn’t it?” Jack said, standing up. Tosh and Gwen’s eyes got wide and Ianto’s heart began to race. “Guess I’m the first one to lose.” He bent down and snatched off his pants, and stood back up fully naked, grinning proudly. Ianto tried not to look at Jack’s cock, which was eye (and mouth) level, beside him, and instead looked at all the faces around the table.

Then he broke into laughter. He couldn’t help it; the shock on their faces was too much. Tosh and Owen joined in, and eventually they all were laughing. When Jack sat down and it was Ianto’s turn to shuffle, Ianto tried to keep his eyes on the cards and not on Jack, so naked and so near him. Ianto shook his head and dealt the next hand. You’d think you’d never seen his cock before, he said to himself. Get a grip.

“I think you lose on purpose, Jack,” Tosh said, her cheeks bright red as she studied her cards carefully to avoid looking at him.

“Are you blushing, Toshiko?” She lifted her eyes and he grinned at her cheekily.

“I think you’re right,” Ianto said, arranging his cards. “I can see his cards from where I’m sitting.”

“That’s not all he can see,” Jack interrupted.

“If he had been playing fair,” Ianto continued, “Owen, Rhys, and Gwen would be naked instead of him.”

“Hey,” Jack said, slapping Ianto’s leg roughly. “Stop cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if you show me your cards, sir.” Ianto pointed to Jack’s hand, which Ianto could clearly see without any difficulty.

“Jack’s a gentleman,” Gwen said, giggling. “Losing his clothes to protect our virtue.” She snorted.

“How chivalrous of him.” Owen rolled his eyes.

Gwen lost the next hand. She looked nervously at Rhys, who picked up the bottle and chugged. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, “What the hell. I have a feeling we’ll all be naked before the end of it, except Ianto and Tosh. Fucking poker faces.”

“Ianto was a soldier, so that explains why he’s so good,” Jack explained as Gwen reached around to unhook her bra. “Though I don’t know what excuse Owen and I have.”

“What about Tosh then?” Owen said, leaning across the table and nearly knocking over a bottle of whisky, his finger pointed in her general direction, but off a few inches. “It’s some Asian mumbo-jumbo. Some samurai shit.”

“Yes, because Tosh is the epitome of a ninja,” Ianto quipped.

“I know her secret,” Jack said, smiling at her.

“I think you know everyone’s secret, Jack,” Gwen said, still clad.

“It is my business to know a fair amount of secrets.” Jack sat back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Tosh’s secret isn’t so sinister, unfortunately. She’s a diplomat’s daughter.”

“Jack!” Tosh exclaimed. “I could just slap you.”

Jack waggled his eyebrows. “I love a woman who plays rough.”

“Wait, what?” Owen stared at her open-mouthed. “A diplomat’s daughter? Our Tosh, our jazz singer in our illegal speakeasy, is a diplomat’s daughter?” He started laughing. “I think you’re pulling our leg.”

Tosh shook her head. “No, he’s telling the truth. Though,” she said, glaring at Jack who just smiled in return, “it was supposed to be a secret.”

“It’s only us, Tosh,” Gwen said, resting a hand on her forearm. “We won’t tell anyone.”

“No one’d believe us if we did,” Owen said.

“I guess that explains your manners,” Ianto said, shuffling the cards absent-mindedly. “You always have seemed far more sophisticated than the company you keep.”

“Hey!” Jack said, gently slapping Ianto on the back of the head. “Watch who you’re calling unsophisticated.”

“Says the man wearing nothing.” This time, Ianto ducked when Jack tried to hit him.

Tosh looked down at her hands. “I just don’t want my father finding me. He still travels to the states often, and I’ve gone to great lengths to hide from him.”

“Your job isn’t exactly clandestine,” Rhys said.

“My father would never set foot in a hovel like this.”

“Oi! This is no hovel,” Owen protested.

“I agree, but I’m sure he would disagree.” She looked up and smiled. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, let’s play more cards. Everyone is still wearing far too much clothing.”

“Tosh, did you just say that?” Owen said. He drained the rest of his cup. “I think I like this side of you.” She blushed, but looked pleased.

Ianto pushed the cards to Jack. “Your deal.”

“Wait! Gwen hasn’t disrobed,” he exclaimed.

Everyone watched intently as Gwen slowly slid the straps down and then covered her breasts with her arm and hand as she removed her bra.

“I’ve seen everything now,” Jack said, “a shy flapper.”

Gwen lifted her chin, her mouth a hard line, as she dropped her arm and pushed out her chest proudly. “Don’t ever say this flapper was shy.” Rhys wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulled her to him, and kissed the side of her face.

After Owen lost the next hand to Tosh, he shook his head. “She’s cheating too. Look at the two of them, sitting side by side still clothed. It’s a conspiracy.”

“Oh come off it, Owen,” Gwen said, fairly drunk now, and completely at ease. “It’s not like you don’t have the same thing as Jack that we’ve been staring at for the last half hour. Off with the pants now!”

“I second that!” Tosh said, lifting her glass and draining it.

“I hate the whole bloody lot of you!” Owen said. He stood up, but Ianto let his eyes wander over to Jack. Staring at Jack’s naked form was much more interesting to him than Owen. He heard Owen cursing and Tosh, Gwen, and even Jack catcalling, but his eyes were glued to Jack’s crotch.

It felt very strange to have Jack naked in front of them, everything exposed. For some strange reason, he felt jealous. He didn’t want to share Jack with them, even if it was just to look.

A hand reached out and grabbed his thigh. Surprised, he looked up to find Jack watching him, eyebrow raised. Jack’s fingers stretched out and brushed his groin, and Ianto bit back a moan and turned his attention back to the table, terrified they would all be watching them. Owen was sitting with one hand covering his crotch as he took a shot, and Tosh and Gwen whispered to each other.

While Owen dealt the next hand, Tosh knocked her teacup off the table with her elbow. “Shit!” she screamed, pushing her chair back and looking under the table.

“Such a dirty mouth, Tosh,” Jack slurred. “It’s kinda hot. I didn’t know you had it in you. I think you’re shifting my world view of you tonight.”

“I like it,” Owen mumbled, his accent heavy with drink. “Say it again.”

“Shut up, Owen,” she said as she bent down look for the teacup. The moment she was ducked under the table, she shot back up, eyes wide and cheeks red. “Oh my!”

“What?” Ianto asked.

“There’s a lot of…man parts under there.” Her face was redder than Ianto had even seen it. “I can’t go back under there.”

“You can do it,” Jack whispered to him, louder than he intended, which meant everyone heard it. Ianto unfortunately caught Rhys’s eyes, who quickly diverted them and laughed awkwardly.

“Shut up,” Ianto said quietly, slapping Jack’s leg a bit higher than he meant to. He inwardly cursed; there’s no way Jack wouldn’t take that as encouragement.

“I’ll save your cup, Tosh.” Owen pushed his chair back with a loud scraping across the floor. “At least I won’t have to watch Jack fuck Jones with his eyes anymore.”

Ianto was pretty sure his face matched Tosh’s now.

“You can join if you’re feeling left out, Owen,” Jack called out as he sent an olive flying. It missed Owen’s head by a few yards and bounced off the back wall.

“In Jones’s wettest dreams,” Owen said as he dropped beneath the table.

“Excuse me,” Ianto started, “but I’d like to set the record straight – “

“Too late,” Gwen interrupted, and Tosh collapsed into giggles against her shoulder.

Ianto sighed. “There’s no chance that Owen would ever make it into any of my dreams, wet or not.”

“Keep denying it, Jones,” Owen said from under the table. Ianto looked at Jack pleadingly, and he only grinned. “Where is that fucking cup?” Owen yelled, and Gwen pointed underneath the table, so Tosh leaned over and looked. Curious, Ianto looked under the table too, where Owen was on his hands and knees crawling around, and Gwen and Tosh were looking at his bum in interest. Ianto sat back up and shook his head.

“Liking what you see under there, Owen?” Jack called. Ianto saw him spread his legs open a bit further and snorted.

“You are one sick motherfucker, Jack Harkness,” Owen shouted. “Why is it so bloody dark under here? I can’t see a damn – OOF!” The whole table shook, knocking over a couple of cups in the process, with a loud thwap. Rhys grabbed an overturned bottle just before too much alcohol spilled out. “FUCK!” Ianto bent down and saw Owen lying face down, rubbing his head. “That table is fucking hard.”

Ianto lost it. He broke into hysterics. He sat up as everyone else looked under the table, and then he slumped against Jack, burying his face against his shoulder as he laughed. He heard Jack laughing quietly against his hair, then felt Jack stroke his thigh lightly. When he opened his eyes, he saw Jack’s cock just lying there, and he broke into a fresh wave of laughter.

“I think Ianto’s had too much.” Gwen giggled.

“I didn’t think he could laugh,” Rhys said. “He’s always so Mr. Serious Face.” Rhys scrunched his face up in imitation.

“Maybe we’ve all had too much,” Tosh said, leaning down to check on Owen.

“Absolutely not!” Jack said, filling up Ianto’s glass to the brim. “Drink more, Ianto. I want to see what you’ll do.”

“Evil,” Ianto said, but opened his mouth obediently when Jack pressed the rim of the cup against his lips. Jack’s hands weren’t steady, and alcohol sloshed over the side, all over his hands, into Ianto’s lap and dribbled down his chin. Jack pulled the cup away and licked the line of whiskey from Ianto’s chin.

“Found your bloody teacup, Tosh,” Owen said, finally crawling back into his chair. “Don’t leave your chair. It’s dangerous out there.”

“Have we played this hand?” Gwen asked, looking at the pile of cards in front of her.

“No, I dealt them awhile ago.”

“Let’s play, dammit!” she yelled as she picked up her cards. “My husband has on too many clothes. I’m tired of looking at all these other man parts and being denied of what I want to see.”

Rhys stood up and began unbuttoning his trousers. “Doll, all you hadda do was say something. I won’t be upstaged by these two.”

“That’s cheating!” Jack shouted.

Ianto turned his head and whispered against Jack’s neck, “Look what you started.” He just realized he hadn’t moved away from Jack after falling against him earlier, and that Jack had wrapped his arms around him without his knowledge. He knew he had to be drunk not to feel Jack’s arms.

They played poker all night, until everyone was naked except for Ianto and Tosh, who had gotten down to their underwear. After they finished playing, they donned enough clothes to be decent (which really meant pants and bras) and Jack put a record on the victrola and they danced on the dark dance floor. Ianto danced between Owen and Gwen, swaying against them because he could barely stand, and then Owen stumbled into him and fell to the floor, pulling Tosh down on top of him. He kissed her as Ianto watched in shock. He turned to the side to see Rhys and Gwen dancing with their arms and lips wrapped around one another.

Suddenly, he felt awkward on the dance floor and maneuvered towards the barstool where Jack sat and watched them.

“Didn’t want to join the orgy?” Jack asked, his grin sloppy and eyes glassy. He wrapped an arm around Ianto’s waist and pulled him close to kiss him. Ianto struggled, pointing towards the others.

“What about them?”

“Do they look like they’re watching us?”

Ianto squinted at them in the dark and saw them doing pretty much what they’d been doing when he’d walked away. “Guess not.” Ianto rested his forehead against Jack’s, whose breath smelled strongly of alcohol. Or maybe it was his own. “God, I’m drunk.”

“Me, too.” Jack stood up without removing his arms from around Ianto, and they stumbled back into the stool behind them. “Whoops. Sorry. I think I’m going to break you.”

“’Mpossible, sir.”

“What did I say about calling me sir?”

“Sir. Sir. Sirsirsirsirsir.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re irritatingly adorable, Ianto Jones?”

“Not lately.”

“Well, you are.” Jack grabbed Ianto’s hand as he stepped away from the bar. “We’re going upstairs.” He turned towards the room. “Should I tell them they can stay?”

“I think they know that.”

“Good. They’ll all probably end up fucking on the floor of the bar anyway.”

“Won’t be the first time that’s happened,” Ianto said.

“We can watch,” Jack suggested as they walked towards the speakeasy entrance.

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Where’s your sense of fun?” Jack asked as he tapped the wall to reveal the door to the secret passage.

“Is this a good idea?” Ianto asked as he held tight to Jack’s hand. “This passage has a lot of stairs. And we’ve had a lot to drink. Though, I think a lot might be an understatement.”

“You talk more when you’re drunk.”

Ianto laughed. They stumbled along the pitch black route, bumping into walls and stumbling over steps. Eventually they staggered out into the second floor hall.

“I don’t remember it taking that long the last time,” Ianto said.

“I think I’m a little off. The liquor has clouded my brain.” Jack stopped in the middle of the hall. Ianto, still clutching his hand, kept going and tripped when Jack’s arm wouldn’t reach any farther.

“What?” Ianto asked as Jack tugged him back and kissed him. Jack’s mouth was sloppy, mostly moist tongue, his usual savoir faire gone. But Ianto didn’t care. He kissed him back eagerly in drunken bliss. Jack pushed Ianto back against the wall, his hands roaming over his bare chest.

“What are you doing?” Ianto breathed as Jack laved one of his nipples.

“Are you that drunk?” Jack said as he descended on the other nipple.

“No. We’re in the middle of the hallway. Your room is literally ten meters away.”

“Ten meters?” Jack said before biting the hard bud. “You’ve measured it?”

“In my spare time,” Ianto managed between deep breaths as his hands slid into Jack’s hair. “We can get there quickly. You won’t even have to remove your tongue.”

“Problem with the hallway?” Jack said, pushing Ianto towards a couch along the wall. “Afraid we’ll get caught? In the middle of the night, in an empty theater, that I own?”

Ianto fell gently back against the soft cushion and blushed. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Jack stood tall above him, and even in Jack’s drunken haze, his blue eyes still burned intensely.

Ianto groaned as Jack slipped off his pants. “Fuck, I don’t know. You always win, don’t you?”

“When I should, yes.” Jack leaned down and covered Ianto from head to toe, his lips soft and slow on his mouth. Ianto’s brain was swimming in too much alcohol, and he felt disconnected, like he was only half participating, but he didn’t care. He never wanted Jack to stop touching him. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” Jack whispered against his mouth.

“Oh fuck, did I just say that out loud?” Ianto groaned as Jack nipped at his neck.

He felt Jack’s chuckle inside his throat. “You did. But please, continue talking. I could listen to you say anything with those beautiful Welsh vowels.”

“Oh god, you are drunk,” Ianto said, his legs falling farther open as Jack kissed behind his ear and scraped his teeth along his neck. “But I don’t care. You can keep saying things like that.” Jack laughed again.

“Don’t move an inch,” Jack said, raising himself up. “I didn’t come prepared to fuck you in the hallway tonight.”

“How dare you not be prepared?” Ianto exclaimed in mock horror. “I thought you always planned for any moment when you just had to have sex randomly during the day.”

Jack stood up from the couch with a chuckle, swooning slightly when he stood up. “The floor shouldn’t be spinning like this. God, how much did I drink? I haven’t been drunk in ages.” Ianto laughed as he watched Jack walk in a slightly zig-zag pattern towards his door. He dropped his head back onto the sofa and realized that was probably a bad idea, so he stood up instead, which was only moderately better. Jack returned moments later, clutching a small jar in his hand.

“When I was in the army, I used to drink this much – if not more – almost every night. I never remember being this drunk.”

“Did you fuck all the gorgeous soldiers afterwards?” Jack asked, sliding his arms around Ianto’s waist.

“Hardly.”

“Too bad. They didn’t know what they were missing. I would have loved to see some gorgeous commander fuck you until you screamed,” Jack said, voice low and husky, but then he stopped and shook his head. “Scratch that. I don’t think I want to think about you with another man. I like that you’re all mine. Apparently, I’m slightly jealous.”

“Good,” Ianto said, trying to look smug. “You should be. I am quite a catch.”

“That you are.” Jack started kissing his neck again, and Ianto sagged against him, knees weak.

“All the soldiers I knew weren’t attractive, though I never looked at a man that way until I met you.” At that, Jack met his eyes. “What is it with you?”

“Unresistable charm.”

“What if every man in my unit was gorgeous and I just didn’t know it. I could have been fucking every single night instead of wanking in the barracks.”

“Sounds hot.” Jack attacked Ianto’s neck again.

“Only you would find that sexy.”

“What can I say,” Jack said, his warm breath sending chills from the sensitive damp spot on his neck, “any image where your cock is in your hand is sexy.” Jack look at him again. “You should do that for me one night. Let me watch you.” Ianto felt his face grow hot. “God if you only knew how sexy that blush is.”

“I think you’ve corrupted me,” Ianto said, pushing Jack away slightly. He suddenly needed a bit more air. “Do you know that I was nearly a virgin when I met you? Lisa and I had sex, but I didn’t know then all that word included. Sex with you is...”

“Spectacular?”

“Innovative…bordering on the avant garde.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Jack smiled. “You really do talk a lot when drunk. Somehow you’ve diverted me from my original plan which was to quickly fuck your brains out.”

“How dare I?” Ianto asked, kissing Jack’s cheek. Jack looked down at his groin, disappointed. Ianto was pretty sure he had never seen Jack look at anyone’s groin with disappointment on his face. “What?”

“Um…”

“What?”

“There’s a problem.” Ianto stepped back, instantly worried. “I definitely drank too much. We’ve got men down! The little captain and his two lieutenants are out of commission.” Ianto looked at Jack’s cock and laughed. “Don’t you laugh at me, Ianto Jones!”

Ianto doubled over laughing, a hand on Jack’s shoulder for support. “I can’t believe that you, Jack Harkness, are...having…performance…problems.” He erupted in a fresh wave of laughter.

“It’s not funny, Ianto!” Jack yelled. “I don’t think this has ever happened before.”

Ianto kissed Jack’s pouty lips, and slipped his hand into the one by Jack’s side. “I think it’s time for bed.”

Jack sighed and looked out the windows as he let Ianto lead him to the flat. “I guess. The sun is coming up.”

“At least something is,” Ianto said before he realized it, and he immediately covered his mouth and looked at Jack over his shoulder guiltily. Jack glared at him.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Jack asked as Ianto opened the door. “Can you please never speak of this again? Ever? To anyone, including me?”

“Under one condition,” Ianto said as he let go of Jack’s hand and shut and locked the door behind him. “Never refer to your genitals as the little captain and his two lieutenants ever again.”

“Fine. But it’s a perfect metaphor. I’ve got men down! They’re on sick leave!”

“Please stop with the bad puns. I’ll do anything!” Ianto groaned as he shut the curtains so they could block out the daylight.

“Fine.” Jack sighed. “Maybe we should just close the Hub tomorrow night.” He fell back onto the bed. “Closed for overconsumption.”

“Is hangover a valid excuse?”

“I’m the owner, I can do whatever I want.”

“I like this plan.” Ianto crawled up beside Jack and stretched out, the room spinning slightly.

“Shit. I think I left my underwear in the hall.” Ianto tried to muster the energy to laugh, but couldn’t. “Fuck it. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna pass out now.”

“Kay.” Jack hadn’t moved from where he landed, but he reached out a hand and rested it on Ianto’s side. Ianto tried to ignore the dizziness as he drifted off.

*

Ianto was pretty sure he was dead. Or dying. He wasn’t sure. His head pounded and his stomach roiled uncomfortably. His throat felt like he’d swallowed fire.

He was never drinking again.

As he got out of bed, he saw Jack asleep on the other side. Glancing at the clock, he saw they’d only been asleep a few hours. After draining what felt like liters of alcohol from his bladder, he went into the kitchen and drank two large glasses of water, then returned to bed.

The next time he woke up, he felt more human. His head still was still sensitive, but he didn’t seem to be dying. When he rolled over, he noticed the emptiness and sighed. He opened his eyes and saw that it was later than he expected. He’d slept almost all day and had to be at work in a couple of hours.

After stretching, he reluctantly got out of bed and went through the bedroom door into the kitchen. He shuffled around in the cabinets for a bit, and finally came away with some bread and a bite of cheese. He decided he needed to explain to Jack the benefits of having decent food at his place. The man lived like a pauper half the time.

He took the food and a glass of milk back to the bed and sat down to eat. As he looked around, he noticed a note addressed to him in Jack’s hand on the nightstand. He opened it up and read.

Ianto –

Can’t close the Hub tonight, sorry. As it is Sunday, it should be fine. Maybe you can sway favor with the boss if you need to leave early. I hear he is fond of you…

I had to meet with Andy today, although I wish I was still asleep beside you. Don’t ever let me drink that much again.

Jack

PS – If I didn’t tell you last night, I’m glad you started working here six months ago.
PPS - Will you go away with me to the country this week?

Ianto reread the letter three times before he put it down. Every time he read the postscript, he grinned like an idiot. They all were happy he started working there, he was sure of that, but to have Jack say it to him…that meant more than anything.

The other postscript had him confused. Go away to the country this week? What did that mean? Were they going on a business meeting? Or to look at some of the property they had sorted through? He’d accompanied Jack all over the New York area for various deals. Outside of the city was farther than they’d been previously, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Could it mean something else? Did Jack want to…

No. Ianto wouldn’t get his hopes up by letting his imagination run away with him. He doubted Jack meant anything but business.

After reading the letter once more, Ianto set it on the table and took a bath. Then he put on a clean suit and left the flat. He was walking down the hall towards Jack’s office when Jack emerged from it.

“Hey!” Jack smiled wide. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Ianto replied. It was mostly true. Other than a slight headache, he was fine. “You?”

Jack waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing can keep me down, not even the evils of alcohol.” He crossed the short distance between them and wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist. “What are you doing?”

“I was on my way to your office to balance the ledgers.”

“Always business.” Jack kissed him slowly. Ianto sighed into his mouth, his arms sliding around Jack’s neck automatically. Jack slipped his tongue inside Ianto’s mouth and pulled Ianto even closer.

When Jack kissed across Ianto’s cheek, Ianto asked, “How was the meeting with Andy?”

“Is that really what you’re thinking about?” Jack pulled the lobe of his ear between his teeth and bit roughly. Ianto groaned against Jack’s shoulder.

“Trying to keep my mind focused actually,” Ianto explained as Jack bit his neck, causing Ianto’s hips to jerk against Jack’s involuntarily.

“Why?” Jack licked the flesh he’d just bitten, then kissed and bit it again.

“I’ve got work to do…” Jack scraped his teeth against Ianto’s Adam’s apple as he loosened Ianto’s tie, “We’ve got to be downstairs shortly…” Jack flipped the tie over his shoulder and quickly began unbuttoning his shirt, “and we’re in the middle of the hall.”

“All valid reasons,” Jack said, unbuttoning the final button and slipping his hands inside. His hands roamed the flat planes of Ianto’s torso, causing Ianto’s eyes to drift shut as Jack’s warm hands slid across his skin, and then Jack stopped and pinched both his nipples roughly. “But I don’t care.” Ianto tried to talk, but only gurgled sounds came out as Jack rolled his nipples around between his fingers. “I want to fuck you right here, right now.”

“Seriously Jack,” Ianto said breathlessly, “Like I said last night, the flat is ten meters away.”

“Don’t care.” Jack raised up and kissed Ianto roughly as he began unbuttoning Ianto’s trousers.

“You don’t have to make up for last night,” Ianto said as Jack began pushing his trousers down, but he was distracted with kissing Ianto, so Jack couldn’t quite get them off.

“I thought you promised me you’d never mention that again.” Jack pulled away and crouched down, yanking Ianto’s trousers and underwear to his knees in one swift motion. Jack paused a moment and looked at Ianto appreciatively, then raised up and kissed him one final time before spinning him around. He guided Ianto to his knees, and Ianto knew it was futile to resist; it wasn’t like he wanted to resist, much. He wasn’t sure about fucking in the middle of the hall in the middle of the day, but his cock throbbed and he loved this mood Jack was in, so he fell to his knees and braced himself on the seat of the sofa.

“This carpet is surprisingly soft,” Ianto mumbled as his knees settled against the threads. It felt softer against his bare skin than the rough material of the sofa against his chest. He reached down and pushed his trousers down a bit further so he could spread his legs further apart. “You should get some for your bedroom.”

“We haven’t tested the carpet in the apartment much,” Jack said from behind him, “we should get to that.”

“I concur.”

Jack slid two slick fingers inside Ianto, surprising him. Ianto hadn’t thought about lubrication, but it didn’t surprise him that Jack had some with him. The initial feeling of discomfort subsided within a few moments, and Ianto was surprised by how gentle and slow Jack was being. Based on Jack’s urgency, Ianto had half-expected Jack just to go straight for it. But instead, Jack fucked Ianto with his fingers, sliding them in and out, twisting them around, until Ianto was clawing at the cushions and making indistinguishable sounds in his throat.

Jack removed his fingers, and Ianto pushed back reflexively, causing Jack to laugh quietly. He kissed Ianto’s neck and then Ianto felt the head of Jack’s cock against his cleft, and he wondered when Jack had undressed, but all thought left his brain when Jack pushed in, not as slow and gentle as he did most of the time, but with enough thought so that Ianto wasn’t in pain. Although they’d been doing this for months, it sometimes still felt like Ianto would never get used to it.

Jack gripped Ianto’s hips tightly, all his earlier tenderness gone. He fucked Ianto with abandon, his thrusts rough and hard. Every time Jack shoved back into him, a moan escaped Ianto’s lips. He felt Jack’s cock from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. Jack’s own grunts were barely audible above his own moaning and the wet slap of their bodies together.

“Fuck, Jack,” Ianto finally said, the sensations a bit too much for him. He’d never actually had Jack be so rough with him, and he found he kind of liked it. “Fuck,” he breathed again. “Please, Jack, harder, fuck me…fuck…”

Jack made a guttural sound, his fingers digging deeper into Ianto’s hips as he pulled Ianto back against him every time he thrust, somehow driving himself even deeper inside. Ianto wrapped his hand around his cock, aching as it teasingly brushed against the rough fabric of the sofa every time Jack fucked into him. Somehow, he managed to get a grip around his shaft and pump his fist a few times, and then white exploded behind his eyes as he came, shouting a string of nonsense while he tensed around Jack’s cock as fucked him even faster. His fist continued pumping his overly sensitive cock as he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm while Jack still fucked him, his entire body humming with pleasure. He hadn’t even realized Jack had come until he let go of his hips and slumped against his back. He draped an arm around Ianto’s waist and kissed his neck, and then started to pull out. Ianto quickly wrapped his arm behind them, stilling Jack.

“Don’t. Not yet.”

“Okay.” Jack rolled his hips lightly and Ianto saw stars behind his eyes again, his breath catching in his chest. He felt raw and spent, but he just didn’t want Jack to leave him yet.

Jack kissed along his neck and jaw, fingers playing against the skin of his lower belly, his hips rolling ever so often. Ianto craned his head and Jack found his waiting lips. Ianto opened his mouth, his breathing intermingling with Jack’s as their tongues slid around each other, searching for even more to touch, a way to melt together even more.

When Ianto’s neck began to feel stiff and his knees couldn’t take the position anymore, he reluctantly broke the kiss and Jack pulled away. He felt empty, and turned around immediately and crawled into Jack’s lap, pushing him onto the carpet. He kissed Jack and covered as much of his body with his own as he could.

“I take it you liked fucking in the hall,” Jack said when Ianto broke the kiss.

“It was passable, I guess.”

“Oh, tough critic.” Jack smiled and ran a hand through Ianto’s hair. They were a half-clad mess in the middle of the hall, and anyone – Owen, Tosh, Gwen, Rhys, Eugene, Mary, Mickey – anyone could walk in on them at any moment. Ianto felt a bit ridiculous, his trousers around his ankles, his shirt pushed to his shoulders, his tie still around his neck, and his ass displayed for the world to see – especially when Jack still had on most of his clothes. He’d managed just to get his trousers around his thighs.

Ianto lifted his hand, covered in come, and figuring his shirt needed changing anyway, wiped it on it. Then, he glanced over at the spot where he’d just been kneeling. There was a large wet spot on the floor. “I’ve got to clean that up.”

“Small price to pay.”

“So says the man not scrubbing come out of carpet.” Jack chuckled.

“Did you get my note?” Jack asked after a few minutes. Ianto nodded. “And?”

“And what?”

“Will you go away with me to the country Tuesday?”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“What do you mean what do I mean?”

“I mean what do you mean.”

Jack laughed. “I thought it was pretty obvious. I want to go upstate, to the country, with you. And only you. I have a small cottage and a lot of land about sixty miles away. I thought it was time that I take you away from here, somewhere proper.”

“Like a holiday?” Ianto asked, sitting up. He rolled off Jack and lifted his hips as he righted his trousers. Jack didn’t seem to mind that his fly was still open.

Jack nodded and smiled encouragingly. “Yes, like a holiday.”

“Why?”

Jack looked at him in confusion. “Because I want to be with you? I’m tired of this place and would like to get away for a few days. I want to take you some place where you don’t have to do work, where you can rest, and we can sit around naked and eat and sleep and read and have sex all day long.”

“So, a holiday. A proper holiday as a proper couple?” Ianto was still trying to wrap his head around it all. Jack nodded. “What are you going to tell the others?”

“Fuck them. I don’t have to tell them anything. But,” Jack leaned closer and said seriously, “I thought I’d tell them we were going away until the weekend.”

“Yes. I would love to go away with you.”

Jack beamed.

*

For a Sunday, the Hub was hopping. The band had been playing lively dance numbers all night, and the dance floor was mostly full. Since there was a bit more room, couples were dancing bigger, wider, and crazier than they usually did. It almost made Ianto want to get out there and dance. Almost.

Gwen was doing the Charleston with a regular customer, her feet and arms flailing in perfect rhythm to the beat of the song. Tosh had joined her on the floor, deciding to dance instead of sing, and had entertained a long line of suitors the entire night. She danced beside Gwen, her Charleston more reserved and contained, but no less perfect. They looked good beside each other, even in their vastly different clothing. Gwen’s dress was so short it almost showed her bloomers as she danced, the bright blue fringe swinging away from her body with each movement, her dark bob bouncing in rhythm with her feet. Tosh wore one of her custom long pieces, the long folds swishing around her legs as she danced, her silk shawl sliding down her shoulders. Her perfectly coiffed curls were falling into her face as she threw her head back and laughed.

Even Jack was out there cutting a rug. When the band switched to a slower, sexier number, he pulled his partner close and tangoed with her across the floor. Every couple on the dance floor was involved in some sort of slower dance, Tosh dancing the waltz while Gwen tangoed, but no one moved across the floor with the grace or precision as Jack. Ianto couldn’t help but stare as he glided around as if on air, him and his partner barely touching the ground. She looked like she was in love.

“You should get out there, Jones,” Owen said from beside Ianto. He’d been perched on the same stool for hours. He’d pulled it behind the counter right after they opened. Owen had the worst hangover of them all, and Ianto wondered if it was due partly to hitting his head. Owen showed him where he’d knocked it, and Ianto had touched it gingerly. It felt like a baseball. “Give a few ladies a thrill.”

“You should,” Ianto replied. “I’m sure you’re a far better dancer than I am. I’m quite terrible at it.”

“You should get one of the girls to teach you. It’s really not that hard. You never know when you’ll have to get out there and keep the patrons happy.”

“If that day comes, the Hub is in real trouble.”

Owen laughed, but then stopped and touched his head. “I’m going to go lay down in the back for a few minutes.”

“Why don’t you just go home?” Ianto called as Owen walked towards the small sitting room right beside the bar they barely used. It was nearly empty, with only an old cot, some empty crates, and a broken victrola.

“I’m fine, Jones. Thanks for your concern,” he said as he waved his hand and disappeared through the door, shutting it behind him. Ianto shook his head and turned his attention back to the crowd.

Moments later, a short dark-skinned man in a pin striped suit and fedora approached the bar. He walked slowly, head down with hands stuffed in his pockets. Ianto watched him curiously; he’d never seen him around before.

“What can I get you sir?” Ianto asked. The man looked up and Ianto gasped. A pair of lovely brown eyes looked up at him. “Pardon my rudeness; I meant ma’am.”

“Don’t sweat it, doll,” she said. She placed an elbow on the counter and leaned against the bar. “You look like you have excellent taste. Surprise me.”

Ianto nodded and went about making her drink as she took the stool across from him. He mixed the dark Jamaican rum they’d just gotten in, pineapple juice, sour mix, a spot of grenadine, and then garnished it with two cherries and an orange wedge. He slid it across the bar. “Planter’s punch.”

She took a long sip and nodded in approval. “Fantastic choice. So, what’s your name?” She leaned forward, so close he could smell the sweetness on her breath.

“Ianto Jones.”

“Lovely name.” She took another sip, eyebrow raised.

Suddenly, Jack appeared at the counter with his dance partner draped around him. Ianto ignored him and smiled at the strange woman across from him. If Jack could flirt with patrons all night, so could he.

“Two gin fizzes, bartender.” Jack flashed Ianto a grin when he finally looked at him.

“Certainly, sir.” Ianto turned away as the woman he’d been talking to caught Jack’s attention. Ianto watched them in the mirror as he stirred Jack’s drinks.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m – “ Jack stopped midsentence, his hand midair, smile and eyes growing wide. Ianto turned around, wondering what was happening. “Martha Jones, as I live and breathe!” he said slowly. He leaned forward and kissed her fully on the lips. Ianto stared in shock, and Jack’s dance partner looked like she was going to pass out. “What are you doing at my bar?”

“Enjoying a sinfully delicious Planter’s punch and enjoying the new scenery.” She turned to Ianto with a wink. “Owen wasn’t half as cute as this doll.”

Jack dropped onto the stool beside her, elbow on the bar and chin resting in his hand, the girl behind him forgotten.

“I know, right? He’s much cuter than Owen. It’s the main reason I hired him.” Jack grinned at Ianto.

“You two know each other?” Ianto asked. Jack’s date didn’t know whether to sit or walk away, and she finally sat beside Jack. Ianto felt a twinge of sympathy for her; he slid her the drink with a small smile.

“I’ve known this rascal for awhile,” Martha explained.

“We did a bit of travelling together at one time.” Jack smiled at her fondly, and Ianto looked between them with a pang of jealousy. He’d never asked Jack about his former lovers (he knew it would take at least a week to get through just the pre the war ones), and he wondered if he was meeting one of them now. Jack looked at Ianto and laughed. “It’s not like that, Ianto.” Ianto shot Jack a confused glance, wondering if he needed to work on his poker face. “I’m, ah, not quite Martha’s type.”

“Neither is he,” Martha said, reaching across the bar and grabbing Ianto’s tie. She tugged it playfully. “But I’m almost willing to make an exception.”

“Really?” Jack asked, interested. Ianto felt his face growing hot.

“Jack!” the girl from behind them piped up. Ianto had forgotten about her, as had Jack apparently. “I’m not going to sit here and be ignored!”

“Nor should you, Harriett.” He spun around on his stool and kissed her on the cheek. “I do apologize, but there is no use in denying the other men the joy of your company. Ianto, make sure that Harriett drinks free the rest of the night.” She didn’t look pleased, but she smiled anyway and walked away.

“Still a heartbreaker, I see,” Martha said, still holding Ianto’s tie.

“Not as much anymore.”

She dropped her hand and stared at him in shock. “Don’t tell me you’re losing interest with old age.”

“Hey! Who’re you calling old?”

“Then what could keep Jack Harkness from breaking every heart in the city?”

“I’m spoken for.” Jack smiled, and Ianto wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw him blush slightly.

“You? Spoken for?” Martha scoffed. She shook her head. “The same man I saw bed two girls and one guy in one single night? The same man I watched lead five people into a hotel room and then walk out with those same five people in various states of undress the next morning?” Ianto’s eyes got wide and he looked at Jack, mouth slightly open. “The same man I saw run naked across a park in Paris while being chased by a cop, who he eventually slept with to avoid getting arrested? No way. The man I know would never settle down.”

“It’s true,” Jack said, and Ianto knew for sure he was blushing this time. He looked at Ianto guiltily, and Ianto just continued staring open-mouthed. Martha looked between them, and then comprehension dawned on her face.

“Oh no. I said too much didn’t I?” She turned to Ianto. “I’m so sorry. That was a long time ago, and I may have been embellishing – “

“Unfortunately, or fortunately – I don’t know which – she wasn’t,” Jack interrupted.

“Still, you should have told me before I ran my mouth in front of your boyfriend.” Martha slapped Jack’s cheek playfully. “And hit on him!”

“You may flirt with guys, but I know you’re strictly a woman kind of gal. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed if you were interested in some experimenting…”

“Jack!” she exclaimed, but laughed. Shaking her head, she turned to Ianto and smiled. “I’m Martha. I’m so sorry.”

Ianto held up his palm. “Nothing to apologize for. Jack tends to elicit certain reactions in people. I’m slowly getting used to it.”

“You really are lovely,” she said. “I think you’re too good for him.”

“I think that often,” Ianto teased.

“Hey!” Jack exclaimed. Ianto chuckled and refilled Martha’s drink. As he replaced it, Jack asked, “So, what brings you here? I haven’t seen you since London.”

“I decided to travel a bit, and everywhere I went in this city, someone knew you or had heard of you. You have quite a dark reputation. What have you been doing since we last saw each other?”

“Probably only half of what they say I do, but I don’t correct them.” He grinned and extended his hand as the band started another fast tempo tune. “Care to dance?”

Martha looked at Ianto. “Do you mind?”

“Absolutely not.” Ianto smiled. “Maybe you can upstage him. He makes it a habit to out dance everyone.”

“He’s just jealous he can’t dance,” Jack said, leading her onto the dance floor. Ianto smiled as he watched them dance. They looked strange together, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the surrounding patrons. Although they had the occasional same-sex couple in the speakeasy, it wasn’t a common occurrence. And Ianto had never seen a woman in full drag before. She wore the suit better than half the men around her, and she knew it, too. She was almost an even partner for Jack, but he still out danced her. But perhaps, Ianto admitted to himself, he was a bit biased.

Later, he saw Tosh walk over to one of the booths along the wall with a man he didn’t recognize. They were walking close, his arm around her waist as she talked against his ear. Good for her, he thought. Tosh didn’t date nearly as much as she should, and he couldn’t figure out why. He really hoped she wasn’t waiting on Owen. Owen didn’t strike him as the type to settle down.

After only a few minutes, Tosh got out of the booth, readjusting the mink around her shoulders. The man grabbed her hand and stopped her, and Ianto watched closely. The man said something to Tosh, who replied; Ianto couldn’t see her face, but her stance was defensive. She tried to pull her hand away, but the man yanked her down into the booth with him.

The instant Ianto saw her limbs flail as she struggled, he was darting across the crowded floor, pushing people away and ignoring their protests. Seconds later he arrived at the booth. The man had pulled her to the other side of him and he was leaning on top of her, her dress pushed nearly to her waist. He was kissing her with his hands on her exposed legs.

“Get off her!” Ianto grabbed the back of the man’s shirt and pulled him away, but the man was heavy, so he couldn’t move him as much as he’d like.

The man turned around and glared at him. “Mind your own business, boy.”

He started to turn back to Tosh when Ianto grabbed his arm. “Fucking piker,” Ianto yelled. The man reared back his fist, and Ianto turned just in time so the man clipped his shoulder instead of his face. The man went to hit him again when the barrel of a gun appeared against his temple. Ianto looked to his right and saw Jack standing there, furious. Just then, he noticed they had drawn quite a crowd. Rhys was on the other side of him, ready to pounce.

“If you’d like to survive another day, I suggest you don’t fucking touch him again.” The man turned to Jack and made a move, but Jack pulled the hammer back on his revolver. “See, I don’t like people touching my things, and tonight, you touched two of my people. And that was a big mistake.” Jack looked over the man’s shoulder at Tosh, who was cowering in the booth behind him. Her hair was mussed, her makeup smeared, her garter showing. “You okay, Tosh?” She nodded weakly. “Rhys, get this guy out of my sight before I redecorate the walls with his skull.”

Ianto stepped back as Rhys moved over and jerked the guy from the booth, Jack not putting his revolver away until Rhys had him. As Jack reholstered the gun, he motioned for the band to start back up. They began playing a loud upbeat number, and Ianto turned around as Gwen and Martha ushered people back onto the dance floor. When he circled around again, he saw Jack helping Tosh out of the booth. He followed them as Jack wrapped an arm around Tosh’s shoulders and led her along the edge of the room to her dressing room. Backstage, Jack sat beside her on a sofa and rubbed her arm as she trembled.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Tosh?” he asked gently. She nodded, eyes on the floor. Jack pointed to the wall. “Ianto, look underneath the floorboard by the wardrobe.” Ianto obeyed and touched the floorboards, trying to find the correct one. “To the left. Push down slightly.” Ianto pushed with his fingertips and the board popped enough for him to grasp and move it. Lying in the small space was a bottle of whiskey, a handgun, and a stack of cash. Keeping his surprise to himself, Ianto grabbed the bottle and replaced the floorboard.

Gwen and Martha entered the dressing room as Ianto grabbed a (relatively) clean cup from the vanity and poured some in it before bringing it over to Tosh.

Tosh shook her head and put up her hand. “No. I don’t –“

“Drink it,” Jack instructed. “It’ll help your nerves.” Reluctantly, and with trembling hands, she took the proffered cup and sipped.

“Rhys got him out,” Gwen said. “And we got everyone dancing again.”

“Thank you both.” Jack rubbed Tosh’s back soothingly. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. We were dancing, and I thought he was nice. He said he wanted to buy me a drink and go somewhere a little more private. I led him to the booth, but then he started touching me,” at this Jack’s nostrils flared, his body rigid, “and I told him no, but he wouldn’t listen. So I tried to leave the booth, and before I knew it, I was back in the booth on my back and he was pushing up my dress and…” Tosh shivered. She lifted the hem of her dress and studied her legs. “He tore my stockings. These were new, and silk.” She traced her fingers over the run.

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He hugged her close and kissed the side of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
.
“This has been some night, Jack,” Martha said, leaning casually against the wall. “Is it always this exciting?”

“Hardly,” Ianto said, then added, “Thankfully.”

“Do you want to go home, Tosh?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine. I’ve been having a fabulous evening. I won’t let some jerk ruin my fun.” She stood up and smiled.

“That’s the spirit, doll!” Martha said, walking over to Tosh and draping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go out there and have some fun. But first,” Martha said as she reached forward and wiped a bit of smeared kohl from under Tosh’s eye, “we’re taking you to the ladies room.”

Ianto watched as Gwen, Martha, and Tosh exited the room. When they were gone, he looked at Jack. He had elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Ianto carefully sat down beside him. Jack reached over, placing a hand on Ianto’s leg.

“Are you okay?” He lifted his head and looked at Ianto. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine. He got my shoulder.”

“Let me see.” Jack touched his arm, but Ianto covered his hand with his own.

“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. The guy was just a bully. Any man who’d pick on a woman doesn’t deserve to live.”

“Maybe I should have shot him,” Jack said, voice distant.

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I see how you got your reputation.” Jack refocused his attention on Ianto. “You were fucking terrifying. I was afraid you might actually shoot him.”

“Not only did he hurt Tosh, which is enough of a crime to kill a man, but he touched you. No one fucks with you.”

He knew Jack was dead serious. “Glad to know you’ve got my back.” Jack kissed him, slow and full; Ianto hated to pull away. He pressed his forehead against Jack’s, Jack’s breath warm against his mouth. “I should really get back to work. There is no bartender on duty.”

“I need to go show my face. Damage control.” Jack sat there for a minute with his eyes closed, then inhaled deeply and stood up.

*

Ianto flicked his eyes towards the door when he heard it open. He was sitting at Jack’s desk, balancing the ledgers, and Jack entered the office, Owen following closely behind. Ianto made to stand up, but Jack held up his hand.

“Don’t get up.”

Owen closed the door and dropped into the armchair across from Ianto. “We’re not going to let him keep running his mouth, are we?”

Jack shook his head, arm extended and leaning on the bookcase. He ran his other hand over his face. “No.”

“He’s leaving port tonight.”

“What do you suggest we do?” He looked at Owen, weariness reflected in the lines on his face.

“That’s your department, not mine,” Owen said. “I just want him to stop ruining our good names.”

“What’s going on?” Ianto asked.

“Remember how I told you one of our clients accused Owen of overcharging him and giving him bathtub gin?” Ianto nodded. “Well, according to our sources, he’s been telling everyone we screwed him.”

“Fucking piker better not say that to my face,” Owen chimed in.

“We have to make sure he understands the error of his ways.” Jack pulled his gun out of his holster, opened the cylinder, and checked the bullets.

“Are you going to kill him?” Ianto asked, horrified.

“No!” Jack answered, affronted. “But I’m always prepared.” He snapped the cylinder back and reholstered the Webley. “Come on. I need to get this taken care of before tonight.”

Ianto replaced the ledgers in the safe and then followed Jack and Owen downstairs and into a taxi. They rode to an apartment building in Manhattan; Ianto had never seen a building like this before and was overwhelmed by the luxurious grandeur of it.

“Might want to close your mouth, Jones,” Owen said. “Someone might suspect you don’t belong here.”

“Be nice, Owen,” Jack admonished, squeezing Ianto’s arm quickly before stepping past the attendant and onto the elevator.

“I’ve never ridden in an elevator,” Ianto observed, holding on to the railing as the small room ascended floor by floor.

“So cosmopolitan,” Owen said, rolling his eyes. Jack just leaned over and kissed Ianto on the cheek, and Ianto looked over at Owen and the elevator attendant nervously, but they didn’t seem to notice. When the elevator doors opened, Jack handed the attendant a rather large tip before stepping into the hall.

Ianto followed them down a long hallway, past numerous doors until they almost reached the end of the hall. Jack stopped in front of the door and knocked. When it cracked, Jack roughly pushed inside. A woman screamed and a man yelled.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sherman.” Jack turned to the woman, holding out his hand as he smiled his most alluring smile. Ianto had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Mrs. Sherman, how nice to meet you.” She took Jack’s hand tentatively, and he lifted to his lips and kissed it.

“That’s not my wife, Mr. Harkness,” Sherman said. He tied his robe around himself.

Still holding the woman’s hand, Jack turned towards the man. “Why, Evan, you scoundrel.”

“What do you want? You can’t just barge into my room whenever you like!”

Jack turned back to the woman and handed her a bill. “My dear, why don’t you run and get yourself a pastry while we discuss business.” She looked nervously at Sherman, but grabbed the money from Jack and hurried out the door. Ianto closed the door after her and locked it.

“What’s the meaning of this? I’ll have you arrested!”

“I doubt that,” Jack said, removing his coat and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to scum like you.”

“Such harsh words,” Jack said, unclasping his cuff links and rolling up his sleeves. “But from what I hear, you like to throw harsh words around often, despite how true they may be.”

“This is absurd! What are you goons doing here?”

Owen stepped forward. “You ain’t been square, Sherman. Been running your yap that we gave you some bad liquor.”

“We settled that last week, Mr. Harper,” Sherman said, backing away and holding his hands up.

“Not what I heard.”

Jack stepped forward and grabbed the man by the edge of his robe. “This is how it’s going to be, Evan. You’re going to tell everyone that you were wrong about the liquor. That you got quality stuff because that’s how I run my business. I don’t sell moonshine or bathtub gin. And I don’t take kindly to people who accuse me of doing so.”

The man didn’t say anything, just stared at Jack fearfully.

“And if we hear of you spreading any other lies about us,” Owen added, “and we will, believe me, then we’ll pay you another visit. And it won’t be as friendly.”

“Do you understand?” Jack said, shaking the man. He nodded. “And just so you don’t forget.” Jack slammed the man down into a chair, then punched him in the jaw. The man howled in pain, his hand against his bleeding mouth. “If you think that hurt, just run your fucking mouth again. I’ll show you pain.”

And with that, Jack turned around and walked towards the door.

*

Ianto manned the bar alone. Since the night had been slow, Owen had gone home early. Just before eleven, a tall man in a long leather jacket approached the bar. The man sat on the stool and Ianto greeted him. He looked military, Ianto noted as he fixed him a scotch on the rocks.

“Where can I find Captain Jack Harkness?” the man asked after taking a sip.

Ianto hesitated. “Who’s asking?”

“The Doctor.”

“Doctor who?” Ianto asked.

“Just the Doctor.” The man grinned and took another sip.

“He’s on the dance floor,” Ianto said, pointing to where Jack and Martha were dancing. The Doctor looked over his shoulder, and when Jack looked his way, Ianto waved to get his attention. Jack whispered something to Martha and left her in the crowd as he made his way out, smile on his face. When he caught sight of the Doctor, his face fell, his smile becoming forced. Ianto noticed the shift immediately and put himself on alert, hoping he didn’t do something wrong.

“Doctor,” Jack said. The man stood up and Jack gave him a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I didn’t know until yesterday.” He sat back on the stool. “Have a scotch with me. We have much to discuss.”

Jack sat down and nodded at Ianto, who fixed the glass and slid it in front of him. The Doctor looked at him, then at Jack. “Whatever you say, you can say in front of Ianto,” Jack explained. “He’s my assistant, of sorts.” Ianto didn’t like the title, but Jack couldn’t exactly tell this guy that he was the man he slept with every night. Assistant probably did cover all of his Hub-related responsibilities.

The Doctor nodded, then turned his full attention on Jack, ignoring Ianto completely. Ianto was okay with that. Made it easier to fade into the background and just listen. “I require your assistance. Are you familiar with Mark Lynch?”

Jack nodded. “Local gangster, been trying to move through the ranks, opened a few speakeasies in Brooklyn and the Bronx, and the cops suspect his involvement in the murders of a few federal agents and even a couple of Manhattan socialites.”

“Among other things, yes,” the Doctor agreed. “There’s more. He’s recently gotten into the selling of arms to gangs from here to Chicago. There’s a rumor that he’s just made a big purchase and plans on distributing them in the next week.”

“A rumor?”

“Exactly. No one knows where Lynch is. That’s where you come in,” the Doctor said, grinning. Ianto listened closely. “I have no contacts in New York.”

“Ah,” Jack said, taking a sip of scotch. “You want me to find out where Lynch is.”

“Precisely.”

Jack drained the rest of the glass, then set it heavily on the counter as he stood up. “I’ll be back in an hour.” He glanced up at Ianto, nodded, then walked towards Rhys and the exit. The Doctor remained on the stool, looking around and grinning widely. Ianto wasn’t quite sure how to take him, especially since Jack had never mentioned him, but he just shrugged it off.

“Another scotch, my good man,” the Doctor said, finally turning back to Ianto. Ianto topped off his glass, and then carrying it with him, the Doctor walked towards one of the poker rooms.

Around midnight, Jack returned to the Hub. He immediately came to the bar, his cheeks flush from walking in the cool night air. “Where’s the Doctor?”

Ianto motioned towards the side room. “Playing poker.”

“Those poor bastards,” Jack said, smiling briefly.

“Want me to get him for you?”

Jack held his hands together and bowed gratefully. Ianto pushed himself from the counter where he’d been leaning and crossed the sparse floor. Around the poker table sat the Doctor and four other gentlemen. Ianto hovered in the doorway, waiting for them to finish their hand. The Doctor had a pile of chips in front of him twice the size of everyone else’s. His face no longer held the goofy grin it had before; he looked dangerous and terrifying. Not for the first time that night, Ianto wondered just who in the hell this doctor really was.

“Pair of Aces,” a man said triumphantly as he tossed his cards down. Two other men threw their cards down in frustration.

“Well done,” the Doctor said, but before the other man could even break a smile, the Doctor laid down a flush. “But not quite good enough.” He laughed and clapped his hands. The man looked murderous.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Ianto said. The Doctor glanced at Ianto standing in the doorway and nodded.

He stood up. “Well boys, I guess you’ll have to battle it out yourselves. Just don’t take it too seriously. It’s bad for your health, you know.” With a grin, he left the table, leaving all his chips without a thought. The men stared after him, then at the chips and started grabbing at them.

As Ianto walked back to the bar, he stopped by Rhys and said, “You might want to step into the poker room. Someone seems to have left a huge pile of chips and I’m afraid chaos might erupt.”

The Doctor joined Jack at the bar. Still wearing his coat, Jack leaned close. “I know where we can get information on Lynch.”

The Doctor nodded. “How quickly can you be ready?”

“Minutes.”

“I have a car waiting out back.” With that, the Doctor left.

When he was gone, Jack walked behind the bar, upended the bottle of whiskey into a cup, and drained the glass in one long gulp. Ianto stood silent, waiting for Jack to explain anything that just happened. “Fuck,” he finally said.

“What was all that?”

“Complications.” He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. “Go tell Gwen to man the bar. You and Rhys are coming with me.” Jack crossed over to Rhys while Ianto went to find Gwen.

After he explained it to her, she asked, “Well, where is Jack taking you two?”

“I don’t know.”

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“Well fuck, Ianto. What do you know?”

“Not much.” He sighed. “Since it’s so empty, why don’t you close up early? Get Tosh and Mickey to help.”

“Be careful,” she said, squeezing his arm and kissing his cheek lightly. Ianto glanced over at the entrance, didn’t see Jack or Rhys, so he went back behind the bar, opened up a secret compartment, and grabbed the gun from inside. He tucked it in the back of his trousers and walked towards the back door of the speakeasy.

*

The warehouse was large and dark, located by the river in the meatpacking district. A lone light shone over a chair, where a man was handcuffed and gagged. Ianto stood beside Rhys, Jack a few feet in front of them, coat billowing behind him. The Doctor walked back and forth in front of the chair, his hands clasped behind his back.

“This can go very easy or very difficult,” the Doctor said. The man struggled against the restraints, his muffled grunts loud in the empty room. “I need some very simple information. Won’t hurt you a bit. Then you can go.” He bent down in front of the prisoner, then asked, “Where can I find Lynch?” He reached out and tugged the gag from the man’s mouth, and he spit in the Doctor’s face. The Doctor stood up, wiped away the spit with a handkerchief, and walked away. “That was a mistake.”

Jack stepped forward and punched the man in the face. The man yelled. “Fuck you. I ain’t no goddamn rat.”

“Where’s Lynch?” Jack asked, then hit the man again. The Doctor watched from behind Jack. “When’s the shipment coming in?”

The man turned to the side and spit out blood. He looked up at Jack from the corner of his eyes. “You can beat on me all you want, but I ain’t squealin’. I’m more scared of Lynch than I am of you.”

Jack laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, you should not have said that.” He reared back his fist and hit the man repeatedly, his fist making a sickening noise as it repeatedly his soft flesh. Then, through the moans of the prisoner, Ianto heard a crack echo through the hollow room.

“You broke my fucking jaw,” the man slurred. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

In a flash, Jack whipped out his revolver and pressed it into the man’s temple. Ianto could see dark spots of blood on his knuckles. “I don’t think you are.”

“Where and when is Lynch’s shipment coming in?” the Doctor asked, squatting down in front of the man. Jack dug the barrel deeper into the man’s skin. “Don’t make me ask again.”

The man looked between Jack and the Doctor, his face covered in blood. His jaw hung slack, his nose swollen nearly twice its size and off center, one eye already so puffy it was almost shut. “Tomorrow night, around 1 a.m., in the Gas House district,” he murmured.

“See? Was that so hard?” the Doctor asked. He stood up and Jack holstered his gun. Then as Jack stepped away, the Doctor grabbed the prisoner by the collar and hit him until he passed out. He wiped the blood away with his handkerchief, then turned around with a wide grin. “Anyone fancy a drink?”

*

“You should have seen him!” the Doctor laughed, pointing to Jack who was shaking his head. They were sitting around a table back at the Hub an hour later, a near empty bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table. Ianto and Rhys laughed as they waited to hear the rest of the story. “Three German soldiers held us at gunpoint, determined to make us personally responsible for the outcome of the war, until Jack smiled at them like the cheeky bugger he is and said, ‘Hey, I’d feel much more comfortable if you were pointing something else at me’!”

They all laughed, and Jack added, “They were so confused, they let their guard down long enough for me and the Doctor to overtake them.”

“But that didn’t matter to Jack,” the Doctor continued, “he still ended up sleeping with two of them.”

“The other one wasn’t into men,” Jack explained, “though that didn’t really stop the other two…”

“You didn’t?” Ianto asked.

Jack put up his hands, palms out. “All true.”

“Is there anyone you haven’t slept with?” Rhys asked, then finished off his glass.

“A very few unfortunate souls haven’t had the pleasure,” Jack joked. Ianto could tell by the softening of his consonants that he was a bit drunk.

“Probably just you and me, Rhys,” the Doctor said, clapping Rhys good-naturedly on the back. Too late Ianto realized that he hadn’t been included in that statement, and he wondered how the Doctor knew.

“Which reminds me,” Rhys said, standing up with a wobble, “I need to be getting home to me wife. She worries if not.”

The Doctor also stood. “I will be taking my leave as well.”

After the Doctor and Rhys had exited out the back, Jack threw an arm around Ianto’s shoulder as Ianto helped him upstairs.

When they were settled in bed, Ianto finally asked, “What was all that?”

“What was what?” Jack was lying flat on his back, his eyes closed. He still smelled heavily of whiskey.

“Tonight. The Doctor. Everything.”

Jack sighed. “My past. Obligations.”

Ianto waited, but he said nothing else. “Is that it?”

“I’m too drunk to talk about this tonight,” Jack said. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”

Although he wasn’t satisfied, Ianto leaned over, kissed Jack, and then fell asleep.

*

Ianto didn’t get a chance to find out anything the next day. Jack was gone when he awoke, and he didn’t see him again until that night at work. But Jack was dancing and charming various flappers, and that didn’t leave much opportunity for them to speak.

Around the same time as the night before, the Doctor showed up at the bar. Owen had joined a poker game with a few of the regulars and was in one of the side rooms, so Ianto was tending the bar alone. The Doctor spoke to Ianto, and Ianto pointed to the dance floor. It didn’t take long before Jack looked his way.

“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Jack said as he approached the bar. His smile fell when he saw the serious look on the Doctor’s face.

“I require your assistance again.”

“Who am I looking for this time?” Jack asked, occupying the empty stool before the Doctor.

“No one. I need you and Owen to aid me in making sure that the shipment of weapons never reach Lynch.”

“When do we leave?” Jack asked, face serious.

The Doctor looked at his watch. “Midnight.” He stood up and drained the rest of his scotch. “A car will be waiting behind the theater then.” He set the glass down with a loud thump. “By the way, Ten is coming.” With that, he walked towards the door.

Jack remained on the stool after the Doctor left, staring at a spot on the counter. His entire body was rigid, his hands eerily still. Ianto wasn’t sure what to do, so he coughed uncomfortably.

“Jack? What’s Ten?”

“Not what, who,” he finally said, looking up at Ianto. Ianto searched his eyes, but they were unreadable, and Ianto felt something not-quite-right settle in his chest.

“Who is Ten?”

“An even bigger complication.” Jack sighed. “You, Rhys, and Owen are coming with me. That gives me an hour to get prepared.” He stood up, ran a hand through his hair absently. “Gwen and Tosh will have to close the place again with Mickey’s help. I might ask Martha to stick around just for an extra body in case anything happens. It should be fine even though it’s busier than last night,” Jack said to himself. Ianto still wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but he knew it had to be serious if Jack was talking aloud to himself. For the first time, he seemed scattered. It made Ianto nervous; after what they’d done the night before, he couldn’t imagine what was about to transpire. Jack stared at a spot on the ceiling, then looked at Ianto. “Go talk to Gwen again. I’ll get Owen and Rhys. Then meet me upstairs. We need a few things.” Jack sighed and walked off.

Ianto went and found Gwen, Tosh, and Martha and led them back to the bar.

“He’s taking all of you? Again?” Gwen asked.

“Yes. And no, I don’t know why.” Ianto sighed. “Gwen, do you still have that gun you carry?”

She nodded and went around to grab her purse from underneath the bar. From it she pulled out a handgun.

“I’ve got one, too,” Martha said, pulling a gun from a holster inside her jacket.

“I don’t have a gun,” Tosh said, disappointed.

“Come here,” Ianto said, motioning her over. When all three women were beside him, he showed them the secret compartments he kept the three different guns in.

“We did this last night,” Gwen said. “Why are you showing us guns tonight?” She looked at Ianto nervously. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. He just couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling. He wanted to make sure the girls were protected tonight. Just in case.

Tosh kissed his cheek. “We’ll be fine.”

“Ianto?” Gwen said in a small voice as she grabbed his hand. He looked down at her. “Make sure Rhys doesn’t get into any trouble.”

Ianto slung an arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Of course.”

Tosh and Martha went back to the dance floor while Gwen tended bar. Ianto explained everything to Mickey, then returned to the bar until Jack came to get him. Jack led him upstairs through the secret passage in Tosh’s dressing room, then took him into his office.

“Jack, are you okay?” Ianto asked as Jack absently looked through drawers. He ignored Ianto, and Ianto crossed the room and grabbed Jack’s shoulders, forcing him to look him in the face. “Jack. Are you okay?”

Jack slumped onto the desk and sighed. “This is just not good. Nine and Ten showing up…” He shook his head.

“Nine?”

“The Doctor. They call themselves The Doctor, all of them. Officially they’re given numbers. The one you met last night was Nine.”

“And Ten is coming,” Ianto repeated.

“That’s the part that scares me.” Jack shook his head. “But first, we have to get through tonight. I don’t like that we have to do it.”

“What exactly are we going to have to do?”

Jack looked up at him, a mixture of fear, fury, and resignation in his eyes. “Whatever we have to.”

“Why can’t you say no?”

“It’s a long story, but I can’t really say no to him.”

Ianto waited, but that was all Jack said. For lack of anything better to do, Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and held him tightly. Jack buried his face in Ianto’s shoulder and held Ianto close, then lifted his head and kissed him. The kiss was too short and too distracted, but Ianto knew Jack had to get his head clear and together. Reluctantly, Ianto pulled away and Jack walked around the office again.

“Here,” Jack said, handing Ianto a duffle bag. “We’re taking a few more guns than our normal revolvers.” As Jack pulled back a small picture frame to reveal a small button, Rhys and Owen walked through the door, dressed completely in black. When Ianto turned back, a section of the wall had disappeared and been replaced by a small arsenal.

“Ianto, go change while Rhys, Owen, and I pack,” Jack instructed as he handed Rhys a large machine gun. Ianto nodded and rushed down the hall to Jack’s apartment, and changed into a more casual, all-black ensemble. When he returned, they were adding the last of the ammunition to the bags.

“Aren’t you changing?” Ianto asked. Jack was still wearing his normal clothes and his coat.

He shook his head. “No. If something happens, it’s more important you three blend in than me.” Ianto opened his mouth to argue, but Jack turned his back, grabbed the bag, and walked out the door. Owen and Rhys did the same. Taking a deep breath, Ianto picked up the bag, heavy in his hand, the metal clanking every time he walked. He followed them down the stairs and out the back to the sleek, black car waiting for them behind theater.

*

The car was silent. Jack stared out the window, his eyes far away, body rigid. Ianto watched him from the seat across from him, Rhys seemingly at ease beside him, Owen beside Jack with his hand covering his eyes. The orange streetlights flashed against Jack’s face, highlighting the angle of his cheekbones, the determined line of his mouth. Ianto didn’t like the way Jack’s change in demeanor affected him. Ianto was distracted, and his years in the war taught him one thing about distraction: it got you or your men killed.

So, Ianto tore his eyes from Jack’s face and closed his eyes, forcing himself to let go of all emotion, all thought, and concentrate. He didn’t have just his life in his hands. There was Rhys, and therefore Gwen, and Owen, and probably Tosh. And then there was Jack. There would be time to comfort Jack, chase that look from his eyes once this was done with. Until then, he had to become a soldier.

When he opened his eyes, he almost expected to see the dank earth of a trench.

The car arrived at the docks soon after, and Jack looked at them all in turn before getting out. He didn’t have to say anything; they knew what to do.

As Ianto followed behind Owen, Rhys bringing up the rear, he once again felt unprepared. Trench warfare was so different than this kind of street warfare. For the first time in months, he felt like the diner boy, the pickpocket, the nobody playing in a world where he didn’t belong. Jack kept him away from these kinds of dealings, though Jack hadn’t had a midnight run in months. Not since the night that Suzie…

Ianto steeled his mind. Thinking about that night would get him nowhere. He’d come to terms with that long ago; just because this was the first time he’d been out on the frontlines since then didn’t mean that he could fall apart. He had six months of experience under his belt.

But six months of being a bartender, not a gangster.

As they silently maneuvered around large shipping crates in the dark, Ianto knew once again this was reality.

They found The Doctor (Nine? Ianto didn’t know what to call him) waiting for them in the shadow of a metal container. He had a machine gun slung across his back.

“Lynch is here and has four men with him. He’s by Dock Number 6. We wait until they finish unloading the weapons, and then we strike.” The Doctor looked at Jack. “One of your men will confront Lynch with us, the other two will hang back to cover us.”

“I called my NYPD contact. He’s on his way,” Jack explained.

The Doctor nodded. “Good. My federal contact will be here shortly, too.”

“Rhys, you’re with me. Owen, Ianto, you’ll stay back.” They nodded. “What do we do with Lynch?”

“Give him a choice. Let’s hope he makes the correct one.”

They clandestinely approached Dock 6. The Doctor and Jack stood out of sight, watching the smugglers unload the crates of weapons. Lynch’s men were reloading them in trucks. Ianto, Rhys, and Owen sat on low crates. Ianto looked in the duffle bag, trying to decide which gun to use. Rhys had a tommy gun, and Owen had a Thompson sub-machine gun. Ianto decided to go with that one, too.

Finally, the Doctor gave the signal. Owen climbed on top of a metal container while Ianto positioned himself behind a stack of wooden barrels so he could be hidden from sight, but also able to see everything. The Doctor led Jack and Rhys out from the shadows and into the open. Ianto took a deep breath to calm his nerves and quiet his pounding heart. He positioned the gun and rested his finger steadily against the trigger.

The Doctor called out to Lynch; he and his four guys turned with guns pointed towards the three approaching men. Ianto couldn’t hear from his position. He watched the men closely, his eyes calculating each movement, each handle on the different weapons. Lynch held a machine gun, two of his men had shotguns, one a pistol, and the other a rifle. Ianto assessed their stances, looked for weaknesses, nervous ticks, the slightest change in position. He didn’t know anything about the inner workings of gangs, speakeasies, and industry, but this he was trained for.

They talked for a couple of minutes. Jack stood furthest away from Ianto, his arm extended with his revolver pointed towards Lynch’s men. The Doctor waved his arms around, the barrel of his machine gun all over the place. Ianto could tell Lynch was getting jumpy and more nervous. That was never good.

Then the Doctor stilled and said something, his gun held deliberate and steady. Lynch’s entire pose changed and Ianto saw his arm shift to an offensive stance, and time seemed to stand still. His eyes flicked from Lynch to each of the other men in turn, watching in slow motion as they readied their guns. He evaluated each of them, determining the biggest threat, trying to predict Owen’s move from above, and what Jack, Rhys, and the Doctor would do.

Before Lynch had a chance to pull the trigger, a bullet shot between his eyes and he crumpled to the ground. Gunfire erupted. Ianto shot the two men in the back, catching one in the leg, the other in the stomach. He continued shooting, the spray of his machine gun aimed at each of them.

Within fifteen seconds, it was over and all Lynch’s men were on the ground. Ianto jumped from behind the barrels and ran over, his eyes scanning the perimeter for any hidden shooters.

When he approached, he saw a body crumpled on the ground and his heart caught in his throat. Guilt flooded him when he saw Jack standing to the side and felt nothing but relief. But then he saw Rhys on the ground. And blood.

“Ianto, staunch the bleeding,” Jack yelled.

Ianto dropped beside Rhys, pulling his shirt over his head. “Hey Rhys,” Ianto shouted as he scanned Rhys’s body for the wound. He saw blood seeping from the left side and lifted Rhys’s shirt.

“I’ve been shot. I’m not deaf,” Rhys said with a shaky voice. His voice sounded weaker than it should.

“Where the fuck is Owen?” Ianto muttered to himself. He looked up at the container where Owen had been and found it empty. Jack was checking the bodies as the Doctor ran over to the trucks. The smugglers’ ship was far enough away from the shore that they could only see their lights in the dark.

“What happened to Rhys?” Owen knelt beside Ianto, and Ianto moved his shirt, now soaked in blood from the wound. “Fuck.” He leaned closer and examined it. Then he exhaled. “You’ll be fine, Rhys. It’s clean and missed everything vital.” Owen sat up and looked around. “But we need to get you to the Hub now. I can’t do shit here.”

“Jack!” Ianto called. Jack looked at him sharply. “We’ve got to get Rhys out of here. Owen said it’s not serious, but we need to go now.”

Jack nodded, and ran over to the Doctor. After exchanging a few words, he returned. “Take the car we came in. It’s still waiting for us.” Owen nodded and tried to get Rhys to sit up. He did so with some difficulty. “Look, I’ve got to stay here. Andy and a federal agent will be here shortly. We’ve got to clean this up, dispose of the bodies, and make sure the arms get to the right place.”

“What do you need me to do?” Ianto asked. Jack looked back at the Doctor, then down at Rhys. “I can help with the clean up.”

Jack shook his head. “Help Owen. He can’t get Rhys back to the Hub alone. And someone’s going to have to go get Gwen and be with her. She’s going to panic when she finds out.” Jack looked over his shoulder quickly. “Get moving. You don’t need to be here when the fed shows up.” He paused, then reached out and squeezed Ianto’s arm. Then he ran off towards the pile of bodies.

Ianto watched his retreating back and then turned around and bent down to help Owen.

*

“Oh, no, Ianto,” Gwen cried when she opened the door. She collapsed against the doorframe of the flat, her face contorting in grief.

“Gwen, he’s fine. He’s just been shot.”

She looked at him through tears. “How is that fine?” she yelled.

“He’s not dead.”

He waited in the small living room while she frantically ran around the flat, chain smoking cigarettes and flinging clothes around in a haze of smoke. He’d never been to Gwen and Rhys’s place before. It was small, in a moderately decent neighborhood of mostly immigrants. The flat was located farther away from the Hub than Ianto expected. But it was nicely decorated, and felt warm and homey. When he glanced at the clock on the mantle, it read just after two.

Gwen made him recount everything that had happened while they walked to the Hub. Ianto didn’t really know what had happened since he hadn’t heard anything. She smoked and rambled nervously the entire way, her hands twisting moving constantly.

Inside the Hub, they found Owen and Rhys in the same small closet Owen had retreated to the night before. Rhys was laid out on the cot, Owen bent over him as he finished suturing up the wound.

“Rhys!” Gwen screamed when she entered. She rushed to his side and dropped to her knees beside the cot, running her hands over his face.

“Please refrain from jostling the patient while I’m sticking a needle into him,” Owen said, holding the needle away from Rhys’s body.

“What happened?”

“I got shot, doll.”

“How?”

“With a gun.”

“Stop trying to be funny,” Gwen yelled, her face wet with tears. “When Ianto showed up, I thought you’d died.”

Rhys lifted his hand and cupped her face, Gwen’s hand covering it immediately. “It’ll take a lot more than some lowlife with a gun to kill me.”

“What happened?” she asked again.

“Yeah Rhys,” Owen said, pouring a bit more vodka over the wound, “what did happen? I couldn’t hear anything from the top of that container.”

“I’m not sure, actually. That doctor guy tried to convince the guy to just give over the weapons and join their forces, but he didn’t like that very much. I don’t actually think the Doctor wanted anyone to get shot. He seemed to really want everything to go smoothly. But the moment he realized Lynch wasn’t going to stop, he shot him before he could shoot us. I’m not sure what happened then. Well, except that they all died and I’m the only one who got bloody shot!”

“Stop yelling, Rhys,” Owen said, “if you tear these sutures, you can redo them yourself.”

“Where’s Jack?” Gwen asked.

“Cleaning up,” Ianto replied.

“Done.” Owen sat back and stretched, then started cleaning and disposing of the soiled materials. “You’ll be fine. Probably be back at work tomorrow. Just don’t over exert yourself. Take it easy.”

“Believe me,” Gwen said as she helped him sit up. “He will. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll call you a taxi,” Ianto said. “You don’t need to walk home.”

After he helped Owen get Rhys into the cab, which was more because Gwen thought he needed the help although he could walk just fine on his own, Owen also hailed a taxi and went home, leaving Ianto alone. He went upstairs, and as soon as he shut the door, his steel reserve collapsed.

He stripped off his clothes and washed up, then he pulled on a fresh pajamas and crawled into bed. His body and mind were exhausted, but there was no way he was going to fall asleep yet. He was too worried. He didn’t know when to expect Jack home, if he was even coming home tonight. What if something went wrong with the Feds or the police got involved? Andy might be able to cover up a lot of things, but there were five dead bodies.

Ianto should have stayed with Jack and helped him dispose of the bodies. Whatever that meant. He didn’t know how one disposed of bodies; but Jack did. Just another one of those grave realities about Jack that Ianto forgot most of the time. Ianto was safe in bed in his pajamas and Jack was out in the city somewhere, disposing of corpses.

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes then grabbed the book on the nightstand. He had to clear his mind from all the nonsense inside it. The one thing he missed about being in the army was that wartime turned you into a machine, a machine that didn’t feel or think, just fought.

Now he was more like a broken machine.

*

He heard the click of the door, and his eyes immediately shot open. He had fallen asleep sitting up, but ignoring the crick in his neck, he leapt from the bed, the book in his lap falling to the floor with a loud thump. The moment Jack stepped through the bedroom door, Ianto wrapped his arms around him.

“Thank god, you’re home,” Ianto said into his shoulder. Jack hugged him, then pulled away. He was filthy, his clothes covered in dirt, blood, and muck. “What did you do?”

“Don’t ask.” Jack shrugged off his coat, and inspected it with disgust. “This will have to be cleaned.”

“Did you get everything taken care of?” Ianto walked over and sat on the edge of the bed as Jack toed off his shoes.

“Yeah. Andy and the Doctor’s contact in the FBI took the guns so they could stay out of the hands of the mafia.” Jack dropped his shirt onto the floor, then stepped out of his trousers and pants. “We got rid of the bodies. Mission accomplished.” Jack headed towards the bathroom and turned on the water. When he reentered the room, he asked, “How’s Rhys?”

“Fine,” Ianto answered. “Owen sewed it up. He should be able to work tomorrow.”

“How was Gwen?”

“Hysterical, but okay once she realized Rhys was fine. I sent them home in a taxi.”

“Good. Thank you.” Jack sagged against the doorframe, naked and exhausted. Ianto got up and crossed the room.

“Come on.” He took Jack’s hand and led him into the bathroom. The tub was nearly full, so Ianto turned off the faucet. “Stand there for a minute.” Jack obeyed without a word. Ianto undressed quickly; he knew Jack was exhausted and not himself when he didn’t make one remark about them both being nude. Ianto stepped into the tub and sat down in the water. “Get in.”

Jack climbed in, sitting between Ianto’s legs and leaning back against him. Ianto heard him sigh and felt his body relax the moment he settled in the water. Ianto ran his fingers up and down Jack’s arms, trailing water along the soft skin, then through his hair. Jack’s breath was even, the rise and fall of his chest noticeable in the water. Ianto listened to the sound of it, the only sound in the quiet room, and kissed the side of his head. Jack’s body was a warm, heavy weight against him, and Ianto was glad for it. It made Jack seem real, and after tonight, he needed to feel Jack, hear the sound of his breathing, of his heartbeat, see his long limbs sticking from out of the water.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Jack whispered.

“Ssh,” Ianto said, rubbing his cheek against his ear. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

“Five bodies,” he said. “Five bodies, Ianto. I knew Owen could take care of Rhys without your help. Do you want to know why I didn’t ask you to stay?” He paused, and Ianto rubbed his arm comfortingly. “I didn’t want you to see that. I couldn’t stand the thought of you…doing what needed to be done.” Jack shuddered, and Ianto wrapped his arms around him.

“It’s okay,” Ianto said, “it’s over now. You’re home, you’re safe.”

“I want to protect you from the horrors,” Jack muttered.

“I’ve seen my share of horrors,” Ianto pointed out.

“Exactly. I want to protect you from them, for the rest of your life. You shouldn’t have to see anything like that ever again. I want to protect all of you, but I couldn’t…” Jack trailed off.

“Rhys wasn’t your fault. And he’s fine.” Ianto sat up, pushing Jack up with him, water splashing over the side of the tub. He turned Jack’s face so he was looking at him. “Tonight was okay. A success even. And it’s over.” He kissed Jack’s lips softly.

“I just need some sleep,” Jack said. He picked up the rag from the edge and began washing himself. “For all my reputation, these kinds of things – large shootouts with deaths and bodies I have to dispose of – that’s not my kind of business.”

“I know.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this. And it was all so sudden tonight. I didn’t have time to prepare.” He hung his head. “I’m so sorry, Ianto. I’m usually alone on nights like this. You shouldn’t have to see this.”

“Nonsense.” Ianto took the rag from Jack’s hands and began washing his back. “I’m not here just for the flirty, charming, sex-crazed Jack. I’m here for all of you, especially on nights like tonight.”

Jack reached up and grabbed Ianto’s hand that was washing his shoulder, and pulled it around him, pulling Ianto closer in the process. He kissed Ianto’s forearm. “I love you, Ianto.”

“I love you, too, Jack.” He kissed his neck. “All of you.”

After Jack finished bathing, they went to bed. Once they settled, Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto so tightly that Ianto wondered if Jack thought he might disappear.

*

His feet pounded against the ground. But he was running slow, too slow, like he was running through molasses. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t go any faster.

Behind him, he saw her. Suzie. Her white dressed stained blood red, her hair caked with dirt. Her skin was rotting, her eyes cloudy. Every time he gained any ground, she reappeared closer behind him. Underneath his feet, the ground became softer, and when he looked down, he saw his feet running on mud and the dank walls of the trench enclosed around him. He felt claustrophobic, the trench too narrow. He heard Suzie’s slow shuffles behind him.

As he turned a corner, he tripped on something and fell face first in the mud. But it wasn’t mud. Blood oozed out of the ground, and when he looked over his shoulder, Suzie stood over him, pointing. He tried to crawl away, but his foot was caught. He reached down to pry it loose and his fingers closed around bones. All around him, skeletons floated in the blood, and in front of him at the end of the trench was the Doctor and Jack, burying skeletons in the mud. He called to Jack, but he couldn’t hear him. Then Suzie grabbed his hair and pulled him to his feet, the stench of her decay surrounding him, but Jack still didn’t notice. He reached out and yelled for him.

“Jack!”

“What? Huh? Ianto?” Jack raised himself up on an elbow and ran a hand along Ianto’s cheek. “Ianto, it’s okay. You’re safe. It was only a dream.”

“Oh Jack.” Ianto wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his face against Jack’s chest. He was trembling badly. Jack stroked his hair gently as Ianto’s brain shifted out of the dream.

“That’s one of the worst you’ve had,” Jack whispered, then kissed the top of his head.

“It was awful,” Ianto said, voice hoarse.

“I’m not surprised you had one,” Jack said, “not after tonight.” Jack lay back down and held Ianto close. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“This time it featured Suzie.”

Jack kissed Ianto softly and hummed a song until he fell back to sleep.

*

When Ianto awoke, he wasn’t surprised to be alone. One day, he thought, he’d stop being disappointed to find Jack gone. Or maybe the day would come when Jack would sleep longer and wake up with him, but Ianto didn’t bank on it.

It was just past midday. He looked on the nightstand for a note, but Jack had left nothing. Longing rose in his chest when he remembered that today was the day they were supposed to go away together. He guessed after the previous night’s events and the arrival of Nine, that plan was cancelled.

He had known it was too good to be true, anyway. No life with Jack would ever be ordinary, and they would never be anything like a normal couple. Even Gwen and Rhys had that life, with their cozy little flat and life away from the Hub and theater. If he wanted that life, he’d have to find someone else. It wasn’t fair – he wanted both. He imagined living in a real house with Jack, living a mundane life, growing old. He shook his head. It was futile to think like that. He knew that he’d choose Jack every time, even if that meant giving up the bit of normalcy afforded to everyone on the outside.

Dressed in casual trousers and a jacket, he went down to the market to buy food for Jack’s apartment. He returned home and put up the groceries. Then he put on the victrola and went about making himself a rather large brunch. He was hungry, but more than anything, he wanted to distract himself. So, he decided to cook. And to sing. It felt refreshing to do something productive, even if it was to make pancakes and cut up fruit, and to sing for no one’s enjoyment but his own.

He was so wrapped up in singing that he didn’t hear Jack enter the flat, so when he slipped his arms around Ianto’s waist, Ianto screamed. Jack laughed.

“Don’t let me interrupt you,” Jack said against his ear as he swayed with him from behind. Ianto continued singing, glad that Jack seemed more like himself. When the song ended, Ianto walked over and turned off the music.

“You got up early,” Ianto said as Jack sat in a chair at the small kitchenette. Ianto mixed eggs in a bowl.

“Had to deal with a few leftover things from last night.”

“Do you want an omelet?”

Jack nodded. “Sure. Are you packed yet?”

Ianto glanced at him over his shoulder. “You’re serious?”

“You still want to go, don’t you?”

“I thought that after last night, with everything that’s happened, we wouldn’t go.”

Jack came over and stood beside Ianto. He stole a blueberry from the plate and popped it into his mouth. “I still want to go if you do. I don’t care if President Harding himself was at the Hub with a proposal to end the Volstead Act; nothing is keeping me from taking you away.”

“The president, huh? I think that the repeal of the Volstead Act may actually trump our holiday.”

“I’d let Owen take care of it. Wouldn’t change my business much. Liquor would be cheaper and I’d have a legitimate job.”

“Imagine that.” Ianto smiled and slid the omelets onto two plates. “What about Nine?”

Jack shrugged. “He did what he came to do. Now he’s gone.”

“But Ten is coming.”

“Don’t care. You’re the only thing I care about, Ianto Jones,” Jack said, grabbing Ianto by the waist and twirling him so they were face to face, “and yours is the only face I want to see for the next four days.”

“How romantic,” Ianto teased.

“I’m serious, Ianto.”

“What about the Hub? Rhys has been shot, so they’re down a man.”

“I think that Owen, Tosh, and Gwen can manage without us for a few days.” Jack looked at him seriously. “Now, have you played out every excuse? Are you ready to leave and enjoy yourself?”

“Yes,” Ianto said, a bit flustered.

Jack grinned and Ianto tried to mask just how happy he was.

*

“Do you have everything?” Jack asked. Ianto looked at his neatly packed suitcase, went through the mental list in his head, then nodded. He closed the lid and snapped it shut.

“Ready.” He lifted it from the bed and looked at Jack. “Where’s your suitcase?”

“Don’t need one.” Jack was dressed in his usual navy shirt, cuffs rolled up, braces and trousers. Ianto, on the other hand, had bought a simple, light travelling suit. He’d dropped off Jack’s coat at the cleaners when he’d gone to the tailor’s that morning.

“We’re going to be gone until Friday. You’re not wearing my clothes.”

“I’m not planning on wearing clothes,” Jack said, stepping closer and kissing Ianto. Ianto pushed him away.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll get distracted and we won’t leave for another hour or two.”

Jack nodded and walked towards the door. “You’re right. Anyway, I packed a few things in your suitcase, in case I need to wear pants over the next few days.”

Ianto followed Jack through the halls and then downstairs. Jack hadn’t told him what time the train was leaving, and he hoped they wouldn’t miss it. Jack led him towards the back, through a side door.

They ended up in a small, private garage behind the theater. Ianto looked around in awe. Some of the most beautiful automobiles he’d ever seen were parked there. Jack stopped beside a sleek maroon car with black trim.

“Are all these yours?” Ianto asked, shocked.

Jack shook his head. “Hardly. Just this one.”

“How much did this cost? It couldn’t have been cheap.”

“I can afford it.” Jack grinned. He took Ianto’s suitcase from him and stored it in the luggage compartment underneath the rumble seat. Then, Jack opened up the passenger side door. “My good sir.”

Ianto carefully stepped onto the black running boards, and bending down so as not to hit his head on the leather top, he climbed inside. Jack shut the door securely behind him. When Jack sat down in the driver’s seat, he leaned over and kissed Ianto.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” Ianto looked around, a bit overwhelmed. The car only sat two on its wide leather bench seat. He watched as Jack put the small key into the ignition and turned it, then exited the car again to turn the crank.

“Push the gas pedal, the one closest to you.” Jack instructed, and Ianto did as instructed. The car purred to life and Jack climbed back in, then gripped the gear shift and drove the automobile out of the garage.

“Ianto, you look impressed,” Jack said as they merged into traffic on the main road. “I don’t see that look on your face often.”

Ianto looked around him, then out the window. It felt so odd to be sitting in the car, looking out at the people on the street as they quickly passed by. “I didn’t expect to go in a car.”

“How did you think we were getting to the cottage?”

“Train.”

“I’m glad I could surprise you.” Jack reached over and grabbed Ianto’s hand and squeezed it before setting his hand back on the gearshift.

“What kind of car is it?”

“1922 Packard 3-35 Twin Six Roadster. I bought it almost a year ago. I don’t get to drive it as often as I’d like. I usually just walk or take a taxi wherever I need to go.”

“Why? If I had a car like this, I’d never walk again.” Ianto reached forward and ran his fingers across the dials and gauges, then placed his palm flat against the dash. “It’s so quiet. Not like the most of the cars you hear on the streets.”

“One of the reasons I bought it. It’s quiet, and it’s fast. When we get out of the city, I’ll show you how fast she can go. I’ve taken her all the way up to 75 mph before.”

Ianto looked at him in disbelief. “That’s impossible. There’s no way a car could go that fast.”

“I’ll show you.” Jack grinned, enjoying every minute of this.

“I’ve never really been in a car,” Ianto observed after a few moments. He still couldn’t get over being in this particular one.

“You’ve taken taxis and that car last night,” Jack pointed out.

“That’s all I’ve ever been in. I’ve never been in someone’s private car. I’ve never known anyone who even owned a car.”

“Well, get used to it, Ianto. From now on, I’ll drive you anywhere you want, anytime you want.”

Ianto smiled and scooted closer to Jack, hand resting on his thigh, as they drove out of the city.

*

Ianto had never been outside the city. It was incredible how tall buildings, steam, and noise could disappear only a few kilometers away. When they’d driven over the bridge onto the mainland, Ianto had nearly hyperventilated. Jack held his hand and kept reminding him to breathe. Taking a ferry (which he didn’t do often – he didn’t need to) was vastly different than speeding along in a car on nothing but a bit of metal and asphalt between him and the river.

Outside the city, past even the suburbs, the land turned provincial. Fields as far as the eye could see, trees (so many trees!), and houses spread out among farmland. The road was bumpy and not very well paved, but it was devoid of other cars.

“Jack, look! Cows!” Ianto said, leaning out the window to get a better look. The cool spring air rushed against his face, sending his hair flying. Even the air smelled differently. “This is the closest I’ve felt to home in a long time.”

“Does Wales look like this?”

“Not really, but it’s closer than New York.” Ianto inhaled and watched the countryside rolling along beside them. He smiled and looked over his shoulder at Jack. Jack was watching him in between glancing at the road. “What?”

“You.” The corner of Jack’s lips tugged upward, his head cocked to the side as he studied him. “You’re almost like a different person.”

Ianto blushed and looked back out the window. Finally, he tore his eyes from the scenery and twisted in his seat, leaning against the door so he could look at Jack. Jack’s hands looked sure on the wooden wheel, his forearms lean and strong as they extended beyond the rolled up cuffs. His hair blew in the wind.

“How do you feel today?” Ianto asked.

“Fine.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you like you were last night. I was worried.”

Jack reached over and patted Ianto’s knee. “Don’t worry about me. I’m always fine.”

“No, you’re not. It’s okay, you know. You tell me it’s okay to show weakness. The same applies to you.”

“I wish that were true.” Jack sighed and replaced his hand on the steering wheel. Ianto scooted closer, so close their bodies were touching. He dropped his hand to Jack’s thigh and ran his thumb over it soothingly.

“It is true. You don’t have to be Jack Harkness all the time. You might have to do that for the world, but not for me. With me, you can be just Jack.”

“Just Jack?” He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “It’s been a long time since I was just Jack.”

“For the next few days, that’s all you are.”

Jack smiled and quickly kissed Ianto. “I never did thank you for last night. For being there for me and knowing exactly what to do.”

“I had no clue what to do,” Ianto admitted.

“You did a good job figuring it out.” He dropped his hand and found Ianto’s, interlacing their fingers. “I’m glad you were there when I got in. You being there made everything more bearable.”

Ianto swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed Jack’s hand gently. The car purred quietly beneath them, their bodies bouncing every time the wheel hit a bump in the road. Ianto lay his head on Jack’s shoulder contently.

“Nine taught me how to drive,” Jack said after a few moments. Ianto snapped out of his daze and looked up at Jack through his lashes. The underside of Jack’s jaw was strong and angular, a light stubble dusting his skin.

“Really?” Ianto sat up and watched him. He was surprised Jack was talking about this; it wasn’t often Jack talked about this past. Ianto wanted to know everything about him. Now that he was talking about it, he wasn’t going to stop him.

Jack nodded. “We were in London. I traveled with him for awhile. He was quite a bit different back then.”

“You’ve traveled with quite a few people,” Ianto noted.

“It seems like a lifetime ago.” Jack paused and Ianto studied him carefully. Jack had a faraway look in his eyes, but his face looked pleasant, happily nostalgic. “He had this old jalopy, and he drove it everywhere. It was loud, but it rode pretty well.” Jack smiled.

“When was this?”

“Beginning of ’18. I got out of the service at the end of ’17, met Nine early the next year, and spent six months with him. We went all over the place, and during all that, he taught me how to drive.”

“Spent six months with him?” Ianto asked with a flicker of jealousy.

Jack took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Ianto, eyebrow raised. “Not the way you’re thinking.”

Ianto was glad Jack looked back at the road so he wouldn’t see the relief he was sure showed on his face. Almost involuntarily, his fingers started scratching against Jack’s thigh. He waited for Jack to say more, but he didn’t. He guessed that’s as much of a story he was going to get. He wanted to know more, but didn’t want to press his luck. But it gave him a bit of insight, even if he didn’t have the whole story.

“If you keep rubbing my leg like that, it’s going to take us longer to get there.” Jack pressed his leg closer to Ianto, as far as he could get it while keeping his foot on the pedal.

“Sorry,” Ianto said, removing his hand. “I didn’t realize I was doing it.”

“You don’t have to stop, you know.” Jack shifted, opening his legs a bit wider. Ianto spotted the beginnings of his erection through his trousers. “We could have a bit of fun.”

“On the side of the road?”

Jack thought about it. “Not a bad idea actually. But I had something else in mind.”

“That look on your face is never good.”

“I’ve never heard you complain before.”

“True.” Ianto dropped his hand back to Jack’s thigh, this time higher up. He stretched his fingers and lightly brushed them across the fly of Jack’s trousers. Jack made a small sound in his throat, and Ianto pressed the heel of his palm against his crotch. Jack pushed against his hand, angling his hips upward. “Are you sure about this?” Ianto asked as he kneaded him through the soft fabric.

“Yes. There’s no one on the road. I can keep control.”

A bit nervous, but trusting Jack, Ianto popped open the buttons and stuck his hand inside. He moved his hand around, finding the band of Jack’s underwear and pushing inside. His fingers found the warmth and wrapped around the length.

“Mmm,” Jack hummed in his throat. Ianto watched the road as he moved his hand slowly, making sure Jack wasn’t going to swerve them into a field. His breathing was louder, deeper, his hips jerking every so often, but no matter what Ianto did – sliding his hand along the shaft, thumbing the head – Jack’s driving remained constant. Gaining some confidence, Ianto worked Jack’s trousers with his other hand until he freed his cock.

“This is…different,” Ianto said, staring at the pink tip almost touching the steering wheel. “I never thought in a million years…”

“That you’d be having sex in a car?” Jack finished.

“Exactly.” Ianto bent closer, careful not to hit the gearshift. The car vibrated beneath them, a pleasant sensation against the back of his legs, and then the car went over a bump, causing Jack’s cock to bob around. Ianto placed a hand around the base to still it, then kissed the tip. “It’s erotic. I feel…”

“Dirty?” Jack joked.

Ianto shook his head. “Sexy.” Ianto licked the small bead of precome from the tip. “Like we’re experiencing something special. It’s hard to explain.” Ianto tried to put it into words, but he couldn’t quite do it. He was hard just from touching Jack, just from the prospect of tasting him as he sped down the road, and Jack hadn’t even touched him. He swirled his tongue around the head, tasting the salt against his tongue, his senses filled with Jack’s musky scent. “Have you done this before?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Ianto flicked his eyes towards Jack, surprised. “Never had the opportunity.”

“So, this will be something that only you and I have shared? I like the sound of that.” Ianto bent back over Jack’s cock, and Jack dropped his hand to the base of Ianto’s neck, fingers playing with his hair.

“It’s not a competition, you know. I don’t think about my past when I’m with you.”

“I know that,” Ianto said, placing his tongue on the underside and drawing it from the base to the ridge just behind the head. “I’m perfectly okay that you’re much more experienced than I am, especially since I get to reap the benefits of that experience, but I still like that this is also your first.” Jack cupped Ianto’s neck, thumb gently rubbing the side. “You’re not going to crash the car, are you? When you come? Or get distracted?”

“No. Just please fucking suck my cock before I crash the car out of frustrastion.” Jack lifted his hips, the head of his cock nudging Ianto’s lips. Complying, Ianto opened his mouth and slid it around Jack’s cock. “Fuck yes. Ianto, you’re a god.”

He laughed, sending vibrations against Jack’s cock and causing it to twitch in his mouth. The taste, the warmth, the weight felt familiar on his tongue, but the sounds, the feel of the car humming and rolling beneath him was disorienting. Even the angle wasn’t what he was used to.

Ianto lifted his head, pressing his lips firmly around the shaft as he moved upward. At the tip, he ran his tongue along the ridge of the head, stopping on the underside to circle the tip around the sensitive spot just underneath. Jack’s hips bucked and he emitted a long moan as he exhaled. His fingers were still on Ianto’s neck, and he could gauge how close Jack was by the pressure on his skin.

He began moving his head faster, sucking his cheeks in an attempt to create a bit more suction. He probably imagined it, but he swore he felt the car moving faster beneath them. He added his hand, gripping the shaft and sliding quickly behind his mouth. “Fuck,” Jack breathed, and Ianto used both his hands to keep his hips stilled as he came, Ianto swallowing as Jack’s cock pulsed against his tongue. When he felt Jack relax against the seat, he sat up and wiped his mouth. Jack’s cheeks were flush, his eyes slightly unfocused, his mouth open.

“You didn’t crash the car,” Ianto observed.

“I don’t know how,” Jack said. “Jesus, Ianto. That was…fuck.”

“So articulate.” Ianto leaned over and kissed Jack’s mouth, angling his head so Jack could still see the road. Jack’s tongue was lazy and light, and he sighed into Ianto’s mouth.

Ianto sat back against the seat, facing the road. Since Jack was driving, he figured the only way he could get release was taking care of himself. He glanced over at Jack, content and relaxed as he paid attention to the road, his cock still visible in his lap, lying against his leg. Ianto would fix Jack’s trousers after he was done.

He quickly unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his cock. Scanning the car, he couldn’t find anything that would aid in clean up, but he didn’t care. His cock ached and he needed to take care of it so he could focus on something else.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked as Ianto started pumping his fist.

“Jack, you’re not the only one who gets to come,” he replied, not even slowing his wrist.

Jack reached over and slapped his hand. “Stop. I can do it.”

“You’re driving.”

“I don’t have to use my eyes, though that’s half the fun.” Jack turned his head long enough to watch his hand close around Ianto’s shaft. Eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel, Jack slid his fist quick and firm, and Ianto came after only a few moments. Jack pulled his hand away, covered in come, and held it away from the wheel.

“Hold on.” Ianto shrugged out of his jacket, then took off his shirt, which had a large wet spot. He used it to clean off Jack’s hand, then tossed it into the floor. “There goes this outfit.” Ianto looked down at his undershirt and sighed.

“I told you it made more sense to stay naked.”

“I wasn’t going to ride all the way to your place without clothes.”

“Could be fun.”

“Maybe on the way back,” Ianto joked.

“You don’t mean that, you tease.”

Ianto grinned. “You know me well.”

A couple of minutes later, Jack pulled the car into a small petrol station. When Jack returned from paying inside, he opened the driver’s side door and handed Ianto an ice cold bottle of Coca-Cola.

“Thought you might be thirsty,” he said, setting his own bottle carefully on the floor. “Want to ride with the top down the rest of the way?”

Ianto took a sip and nodded. “Yes!”

Jack grinned and pulled back the soft leather top. After he secured it, he reached inside, turned the key, then cranked the car. Ianto savored the sweet taste of the soda as the warm afternoon air whipped around them. The sun shone down on them, and Ianto closed his eyes and let the heat sink into his skin.

“Want to see how fast she’ll go?” Jack asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Hold on,” Jack instructed as he pressed the pedal closer to the floor. Ianto gripped the windowsill as he felt the car speed up. The engine roared to life as Jack shifted gears, and the countryside was almost a blur as the car accelerated. “Forty miles per hour…forty five…fifty…” Ianto’s heart pounded in his chest. He’d never been so fast in his entire life. He thought he’d be terrified, but he wasn’t. He trusted Jack to keep him safe. “Sixty…sixty five…Let’s give her all she’s got. Seventy…seventy five! Whoo!” Jack yelled and beat the steering wheel with both his hands.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Ianto yelled over the wind rushing in his ears. “Jack, this is insanity!” Jack maintained their fast speed, and Ianto lifted his arms high in the air. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “I feel like I’m flying!” There didn’t even feel like there was a car beneath them – it felt like he was gliding through space on nothing but air. He opened his eyes and grabbed the top of the windscreen and stood up. The air was rough against his face, the force almost knocking him down. He looked down at Jack, smiling up at him.

Standing there like that, the scenery rushing by, he felt immortal. He and Jack were gods, soaring through the golden countryside with nothing holding them back. The world was theirs, and just theirs. Ianto dropped back to his seat, laughing. His face stung, his eyes watering, but he felt exhilarated, more alive than he had in a long time.

They passed one car, zipped past them like they were standing still. Ianto thought about the people in the other car, the people in the houses they passed. They would never feel what he felt in that exact second, would never experience life the way he did.

Maybe he would never have a normal relationship with Jack. But sitting in that car, Ianto decided he didn’t want what everyone had; let them have it. Normal people didn’t speed down the road in cars; they didn’t dance and drink, sing jazz and make love every night. Normal people didn’t love the way they loved. He looked over at Jack beside him, his hair blowing everywhere, light reflecting off his sunglasses, his tan forearms muscular and sure. Jack smiled, wide and relaxed, deep lines around his mouth, and took Ianto’s hand. Ianto interlaced their fingers and thought they were the only two people on earth, all alone on the grey asphalt, driving to a destination that didn’t matter.

Ianto yelled into the air. He wouldn’t trade this for anything anyone else had. Because he had Jack, and today, Jack made him fly.

*

After seeing Jack’s car, Ianto expected the cottage to be a huge estate. But it wasn’t. The cottage was located at the end of a long shaded driveway, so far back it wasn’t visible from the road. The drive twisted between dense woods, then opened up into a well manicured lawn. Oak trees dotted the landscape, casting shade over everything, and the wooden cottage was nestled in tasteful wild shrubbery. Flower bushes lined the edges, beds were packed full of colorful blooms and various greenery, and ivy grew up the sides.

When Ianto walked towards the house, he saw large windows that took up most of the front of the house. The outside was painted a soft yellow with white shutters and windows.

“What do you think?” Jack asked, coming to stand beside Ianto. Ianto’s eyes swept across the house, then around the grounds.

“It’s smaller than I expected.”

“Oh.”

Ianto shook his head. “It’s not a bad thing.” He reached out and squeezed Jack’s arm gently. “I don’t know, I just expected you to have this huge estate with servants and room to fit most of New York inside. But this…this is perfect.” He glanced at Jack, who looked pleased and relieved.

“I don’t have a need for a big estate. I never entertain, and I rarely come up here anyway. Actually,” Jack said, bending down beside a flower bed to pull an errant weed, “you’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

“Really?”

Jack nodded. “Really.”

“Why don’t you come often?”

Jack shrugged as he stood. “I don’t have a lot of time to get away from the Hub. And when I do have the time, I don’t take it.”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone here before? Why not Owen, Tosh, Gwen, or Rhys?”

“I’ve thought about bringing them up here, but have never found a good time. And really, you’re the first person I ever wanted to bring here.” Jack grabbed Ianto’s hand and led him across the front yard. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“Okay.”

“I haven’t had a relationship since I moved to New York, a real relationship anyway. I didn’t have many before either.”

“You? That’s hard to believe.”

“A relationship isn’t the same thing as dating or having sex.”

“But why?”

“I’ve always only been interested in having fun.” Jack looked at him. “It never occurred to me I could have fun with the same person and be happy.” Ianto blushed and looked away.

*

After dinner, Jack and Ianto sat in a swing on the back deck. The air was warm as the sun sank behind the clouds, casting glowing yellow-gold rays across the back yard through the trees. A slight breeze blew across the yard, filling the air with the sweet smell of the surrounding flowers.

“Did you plant all these flowers?” Ianto asked, scanning the flower beds scattered around the grounds. The small yard was cozy, enclosed on all sides by dense woods.

“Oh gracious, no.” Jack laughed and draped an arm across Ianto’s shoulders. “I employ a gardener to keep up the grounds. He and his wife live nearby.”

“Seems like a waste.”

“What does?”

“Paying to keep up a place you never visit. Owning a beautiful place like this and never visiting.”

“It’s here when I want it,” Jack explained, “and I can afford it.” He pushed the swing back with his foot, sending them sailing in a small arc. “I enjoyed cooking dinner with you.”

“I did, too.” Ianto lifted his hand and grabbed Jack’s dangling at his shoulder. “It was very good. We should do it more often.”

“If only we had the time.”

They sat in comfortable silence for awhile. Ianto leaned his head against Jack’s shoulder, and listened to the birds, the insects, the squeak of the swing as the sun slowly descended.

“I have a question,” Ianto finally said, breaking the silence.

“Okay.”

“Who exactly is Nine, The Doctor – whoever he is? You said you travelled with him, but I don’t understand what we did last night.”

Jack sighed and Ianto felt him tense beneath him, so he squeezed his hand. “It’s a bit complicated.”

“Try me.”

“The Doctor is a free agent of sorts. They’re not associated with any particular government agency or gang. Their control goes beyond that.”

“Who do they control?”

“Just about everything. You don’t say no to these people.”

“Who are Nine and Ten?”

Jack hesitated, walked the swing all the way back and then lifted his legs as the swing surged forward. “They’re the current representatives, the leaders of sorts. They handle different aspects of the same operation.”

“So, what exactly did we do last night?”

“We stopped a mobster from obtaining an enormous shipment of arms. We saved a lot of lives.”

“Do you really believe that?”

A beat passed before Jack answered. “I do.”

“Do you believe it was worth killing five people?”

“They were bad men, Ianto. I’d heard of Lynch before, and he was a ruthless killer. I’m no judge and jury, but I’m not sure we did the wrong thing. I hate the thought of killing anyone, even a violent killer like Lynch, but I think that perhaps we saved a few people from a terrible fate.”

Ianto leaned over and kissed Jack’s cheek gently. “See? You are a good man.”

“Even if I put five bodies in the river last night?” Ianto shivered, and Jack kissed his temple. “You can’t even think about it without shuddering.”

“Would you have killed them if Nine hadn’t ordered you to?”

“Probably not.”

Ianto didn’t say anything, tried to make up his mind about Nine, the entire situation. He couldn’t quite rationalize it all. There were too many grey areas, and he felt Jack wasn’t telling him everything.

“Let’s not talk about this,” Jack said.

“I want to know more about the Doctor.”

“Another time.” Jack hugged Ianto close to him. “Right now, I want to focus only on you.”

*

Later that night, they were lying in bed with the windows open. The room was dark, the only sounds the cicadas outside and their breathing. The spring air was crisp, and since they were both still damp with sweat, Ianto was chilled. Jack got out of bed and grabbed another quilt from the chest at the foot of the bed.

“Come here,” Jack said, wrapping his arms around Ianto and pulling him closer. “Don’t want you catching cold. I thought we’d have generated quite a bit of heat to keep you warm.”

“I’m fine. You’re very warm.” Ianto snuggled closer, trying to steal as much of Jack’s warmth as possible while Jack ran a lazy hand through Ianto’s hair. “I can’t believe it’s before midnight and we’re in bed.”

“I don’t think I’ve been in bed this early since I opened the Hub,” Jack said, “well, in bed with a person I intended on falling asleep with shortly thereafter.” Jack slid his hand down and scratched lightly across Ianto’s shoulder.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything, any time.”

“How did you meet everyone? I’ve never heard any of you say.”

“Hmm…that’s a good question.” Jack began drawing figure eights with his finger on Ianto’s arm. “I initially met Owen in the war, but only briefly. Then, we bumped into each other after the war. In 1919, we both decided to move to New York. I ended up getting into real estate and made quite a bit of legitimate money that way. Owen was a bit of an entrepreneur. He owned the diner, and then in January of 1920, I stumbled upon the theater, which was failing, and bought it for cheap.”

“Is that how you got into running alcohol?”

Jack shook his head. “No. I was already doing that when Owen and I discovered that the theater had an expansive basement. We had to do very little expanding underneath it to make it a functional speakeasy. A lot of the secret passages were already there. We added more, and I added a few secret ones that even Owen didn’t know about.”

Jack shifted his arm underneath Ianto’s head, then scratched his stomach. “I asked Owen to be my partner with the speakeasy,” he continued. “He knew how to run a business, I knew how to get liquor. I’m a lot of things, but business-minded isn’t one of them. I can make money from property, I can run liquor for a pretty profit, and I can bring in customers, but Owen really is the one who is the business mind behind the diner, theater, and bar.”

Ianto shook his head. “I never would have known that about Owen.”

“He’s not as bad as he seems sometimes,” Jack explained. “Owen’s one of the smartest, most loyal people I’ve ever met.”

“He’s just an asshole.”

Jack laughed. “I can’t quite deny that. He likes you, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“He does. You can’t take what he says personally.”

“Easy for you to say.” Ianto turned his head and kissed Jack’s chest. “What about the others?”

“Gwen and Rhys were a package deal. Rhys had been a bouncer at a saloon before Prohibition started. I knew the owner and he recommended Rhys. I think Gwen’s the reason they took the job. She told me I could have Rhys as long as I let her work there, too. She so desperately wanted to be a flapper and knew that working in a speakeasy would help. You know how Gwen is. Of course, I said yes.” Jack took a drink of water from his glass on the bedside table. “Tosh…” Jack sighed. “I’m not sure this is my story to tell.”

“Why?”

“You should ask her to tell you what happened. You two are close.”

Ianto lifted up on his elbow and looked down at Jack in the dark. He could barely make out the outline of Jack’s features. “I’ve thought about it, especially after you told us she was a diplomat’s daughter that night. I’m just not sure I should. I don’t want to offend her. She seemed pretty secretive. I didn’t know if it’d be proper to ask a lady about her past like that.”

Jack wiped a hand across his face and sighed. “She may not care, but just don’t tell her I told you.” Ianto nodded. “I met Tosh on accident. Kismet really.” Jack scooted up in the bed and rested his head against the headboard as he stared across the dark room. “I had just bought the theater when I met her. I hadn’t even started remodeling it yet. One night, I was walking home when I heard someone scream. I was going to ignore it, but I heard it again, so I ran towards the source.” Jack paused. Ianto sensed what was next and felt a bit sick. “It was Tosh. She was in an alley with two nicely dressed so-called gentlemen. One had her on the ground; she was nearly nude, her clothes torn…” He shook his head. Ianto grabbed his hand. “The other guy was watching, knife in one hand, his other hand inside his pants. She was bleeding and terrified. He’d beaten her when she’d refused to have sex with him. I came up, told them to stop, and they turned around and laughed. They told me to mind my own business and get my own Jap whore.” Jack shuddered at the memory.

“Jack,” Ianto said, “you don’t have to tell me the rest. I should never have asked – “

“It’s okay.” He went silent for a few moments while Ianto waited. “Tosh came to this country running from her father. I’m not sure all the details there, but she wanted to be free of him. She came to New York, but it wasn’t a very welcoming place. She couldn’t find a respectable job, so…” Jack trailed off, then looked at Ianto. “Please don’t tell her I told you this. No one knows.”

“I promise.”

“Tosh was a prostitute for a short time. It was the only job she could get, and it was that or starve.”

“Who am I to judge?” Ianto said. “I was a bloody pickpocket.”

“But you didn’t have to sell your body and your dignity. She said she was a high class escort, and most of the time she just provided rich men with a companion. Occasionally though, she’d have to do a bit more.” He sighed again. “The guy who tried to rape her was a client of hers, a banker from Wall Street. He’d hired her to escort him to a fundraiser, then he’d tried to seduce her. She refused and left him after the party. But he and his friend followed her and tried to pay her to sleep with them. When she still refused, they decided since she was a whore, she didn’t matter and they’d fuck her anyway.”

“Damn.”

“That’s when I showed up. And just in time. The guy who was on Tosh stood up, his fly undone, and pulled out a gun as his friend advanced on me with the knife.” Jack paused and took a deep breath. “I shot them both in the head before they could take another step. I just…”

Ianto squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Those men. The way they looked at her, the things they called her. Filthy, terrible things. She was so small, so broken, lying there on the ground surrounded by trash, her hair and makeup mussed, exposed. I didn’t care who or what they were. I killed them before I realized I’d even pulled out my gun.” Jack looked at Ianto, and even in the dark, Ianto could see the pain in his eyes. “I’ve told you I’ve killed a lot of men in my time, Ianto. Many of them I regret, but I would kill those bastards again without thinking about it.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” Ianto said quietly. “About anything, no matter how many men you’ve killed.”

“After I shot them, she looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and terror on her face. I think she thought I was going to shoot her next. Instead, I took off my coat, covered her with it, and took her to the Hub. Owen took care of her abrasions, all minor thankfully, and she’s worked for me ever since.” Jack shrugged. “You know about everyone now.”

“Poor Tosh,” Ianto said. “I never would have pegged her as a prostitute.”

“Because she’s not that kind of woman,” Jack explained. “Tosh is from fine breeding and grew up with tutors, propriety, and class. But starvation and desperation makes people do terrible things.”

Ianto sighed. “That is unfortunately true.” He crawled into Jack’s lap, straddling him. He laced his fingers behind Jack’s head. “You’re one of the most extraordinary men I’ve ever met,” he said. “You saved her life, saved her from not only those men, but a horrible existence. No matter what you’ve done, you’re a good man.” Ianto placed on hand over Jack’s heart. “Here.”

“You see what you want to, Ianto. I’m not a good man. Good men don’t do the things I have.”

“You love with abandon, you’re generous, and you protect your own, no matter the cost. Most people wouldn’t have stopped for one woman if the men had weapons. You didn’t care.” He leaned forward and kissed Jack softly. “Don’t ever think you’re not a good man, Jack. The world’s not black and white.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be the man you think I am,” Jack said against his mouth.

“You already are.”

*

When Ianto woke up, he felt Jack’s heavy arm across his waist. He smiled and fell back asleep, content. When he woke up the next time, Jack was gone. Ianto rolled onto his empty side of the bed and inhaled. Jack’s scent filled his nostrils, along with something else. He sat up quickly and sniffed again.

Bacon.

Not bothering to put on clothes, Ianto walked into the combined living room/kitchen area. Jack was at the stove, cooking completely naked. He turned around when he heard Ianto’s steps. “Morning!” He grinned as he put two plates on the small kitchen table. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Ianto immediately walked over to the coffee pot and poured the hot liquid into a cup. He brought it to his nose, closed his eyes, and inhaled. He took a sip. His coffee was better, but he wasn’t going to tell Jack that. He thought it was sweet he tried. Turning and leaning against the counter, he surveyed the table, his cup cradled in his hands. Eggs, bacon, toast, tomatoes, various fruits, and jam. “Are you not planning on feeding me for the rest of the day?”

“I was going to surprise you with this in bed, but you got up too early.” Jack actually looked disappointed, so Ianto kissed him.

“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“Thank you for not putting on clothes.” Jack grinned widely as Ianto rolled his eyes.

“What are we going to do today?” Ianto asked as he ate. He drank more coffee and ate more than usual. Being relaxed and having Jack eating with him seemed to increase his appetite.

“Whatever you want to do.” Jack slathered jam on his toast. Ianto watched him curiously. “What?”

“Would you like some toast with your jam?”

“Shut up. My mother used to eat her toast this way. My brother and I picked up the habit from her. He was worse than I was.”

“You have a brother?”

Jack nodded. “Had. A younger brother. He died when I was very young.” Jack’s face was abnormally blank, his posture rigid, eyes unreadable.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I don’t talk about him.” He quickly changed the subject. “We could go for a walk around the property. It’s quite beautiful, and there’s a swimming hole not too far. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect.” Jack continued talking during the remainder of breakfast, but Ianto could tell a significant difference in him. His voice had a forced quality he used a lot with patrons, and the easy posture he’d adopted since they’d arrived was gone. Ianto ignored it.

But the entire walk around the grounds, Jack was uncharacteristically quiet. By the time they got to the swimming hole and undressed, Ianto couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jack, what’s wrong?” he asked as he swam over to Jack. The water was extremely cold, but clear and situated at the edge of a beautiful field. The sun was warm against his shoulders and back, making the cold a bit more bearable.

“Nothing.” Jack grabbed Ianto and pulled him in for a kiss, but Ianto pushed him away.

“You’re not going to distract me. I’m sorry I asked about your brother.”

Jack dove underneath the water and swam away, resurfacing by the shore. He climbed out of the pond and laid back on the grass. Ianto swam across the water and sat beside him.

“Can we not talk about this?”

“That’s fine,” Ianto said, “but I want you to stop acting like this. You haven’t been yourself all day. You can talk to me, you know.”

“Leave it alone, Ianto.” Jack sat up and turned away. Ianto moved closer and draped his arms around Jack’s shoulders, placing a soft kiss to the back of his neck. He didn’t know what to say or do, so he just sat there with his cheek pressed against Jack’s shoulder blade. “I haven’t mentioned him to anyone in years,” Jack finally said. “Since before the war. I don’t talk about him. But you…” Jack shook his head and looked over his shoulder at Ianto, “you don’t even do anything and I’m rambling about my mother and brother over fucking toast like it’s no big deal.” He covered Ianto’s hands with his own.

“What happened, Jack?”

“My father and brother died when I was very young. I lived with my mother until I left home at fifteen.”

“Fifteen? That’s so young.”

“My mother was never quite the same woman she was after they died. I didn’t leave much.”

Ianto didn’t know what to say, so he just kissed Jack’s shoulder.

*

Ianto was stretched out opposite Jack on the living room floor. They were playing Rummy, a fire burning in the fireplace behind them. He glanced across at Jack, who was studying his cards. Unconsciously, Jack rubbed his bare feet together as he decided his next move. Waiting on him, Ianto stared at Jack’s long legs extending near his face and reached out to stroke his calf.

“Stop distracting me,” Jack said without looking up from his cards. “It’s not going to help you win.”

“Game’s not over yet.” Ianto ran his thumb lazily over Jack’s shin bone.

“There. Your turn.”

Ianto glanced at the card Jack discarded and then drew. He laid down a run. “I’ve got plenty of time to make it to five hundred points. I’m going to make a comeback.”

“I’m positively rife with anticipation.” Ianto kicked his foot out, clipping Jack in the shoulder. “So violent when you lose.”

“Just wait. We’ll see who’s the loser when it’s all over.”

Jack chuckled and picked up the card Ianto discarded, then laid down two runs and went out. “You were saying?”

“Shut up and shuffle the cards.” Ianto got up from the floor as Jack began shuffling. He grabbed both their cups and carried them over to the coffee pot to refill them. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Jack lying on the floor, leaning on his elbow. He thought Jack looked positively adorable in his boxer shorts low on his hips, his body long and lean, his messy hair falling haphazardly across his forehead as he dealt their next hand. Although they’d spent most of the day naked, and part of it having sex, Ianto found he almost preferred this moment. It was simple and comfortable. Something they didn’t get to share too often.

When he returned, he handed Jack the fresh cup and stretched back out. He picked up his hand and started sorting. “You better not have cheated when I had my back turned.”

“Do you really think I’d cheat? A little trust would be nice.” Ianto answered him with a loud hmph. “You’re an excellent poker player, Ianto, but you’re terrible at Rummy.”

“Cards just aren’t falling correctly. Now stop torturing me and play.” They played in silence for a few moments, then Ianto asked, “Did you really do all those things Martha said you did?”

“What things?” Jack moved his finger back and forth over his cards, then finally picked one and discarded it. Ianto picked it up.

“Having sex with five people at one time, running naked in Paris?” He discarded and looked at Jack with interest.

“Yep. All true.”

“Five people? At the same time?” Jack nodded. Ianto, cards momentarily forgotten, tried to work out the logistics, but failed. “How is that even possible?”

Jack laughed. “Use your imagination, Ianto.”

Ianto tried to picture it in his head. “Were you with all five of them at the same time, or were you pairing off?”

“Same time.”

“I can figure out three of them, if I include your mouth which I’m sure you did – “

“You do know my mouth well.”

“But the other two?”

“Two hands.” Jack lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers.

“That sounds complicated.” Jack just laughed. Ianto was still trying to picture it. “That seems like too many people. I don’t think I’d want to be with that many people at one time.”

“It was interesting. Especially since the two guys weren’t even gay…but it didn’t seem to stop them from enjoying it.” Jack grinned, and Ianto shook his head. “You mean to tell me, Ianto, that given the chance, you wouldn’t have sex with more than one person.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it.” He picked up his cards and drew.

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“We could try it some time. Girl or guy, I’m not picky.”

“I’m perfectly happy with our sex life, thank you.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Ianto shot Jack an exasperated glance. “Really? Just today we fucked on the kitchen table, outside, and in the shower. Yesterday we did it in the car. What else do you want from me?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Jack held his palms towards Ianto in surrender. “I’m just talking.”

“Are you bored?”

“No! Why would you think that?”

“You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to convince me to have a threesome.”

“I was joking.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Partially joking.”

“Then I partially forgive you.” Ianto looked up at Jack through his lashes, and when Jack momentarily looked upset, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Arse.”

Ianto playfully nudged his arm with his foot.

“I’m not, you know,” Jack said quietly a few minutes later. Ianto looked up from dealing the cards. “Bored with you. I don’t want you to think that I am.”

“Okay.”

“Really.” Ignoring the cards, Jack reached between them and grabbed Ianto’s hand. “I would have sex with a third – or even fifteen people – if you wanted to. But only if you wanted to. You’re all I need.”

Ianto didn’t say anything. He trusted Jack, but sometimes it was difficult not to compare. “I know. I told you yesterday I don’t mind that you have an extremely sexual past.”

“Then why does your face look like that?”

“Sometimes I mind more than other times.”

Jack crawled across the space between them and pulled Ianto into a kiss. His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue urgent. His hand held Ianto’s neck firmly, pressing their faces together. There was a force and intensity behind his lips that Ianto rarely felt from him. He kissed him with almost reckless abandon.

When Jack pulled away, Ianto could barely breathe. His pulse was racing, his heart pounding in his ears, his lips tingling where Jack had been. Jack’s lips were parted, his breathing audible in the quiet room. This close, he could see the deep blue of his eyes, and a few flecks of grey.

“I think I messed up our hands.”

“Damn. We’ll just have to reshuffle.”

“You can forfeit. You’re gonna lose anyway.”

Ianto nipped at Jack’s lips. “Never. You’re going down, Harkness.”

“Prepare to eat your words, Jones.” Jack kissed Ianto before scooting back and gathering the cards to reshuffle.

*

“Want some more coffee to wash down the words you just ate?” Jack asked as he laid down his final runs to go out and reach five hundred points.

“Dammit.” Ianto tossed his cards down on the floor.

“What do I win?” Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Bragging rights.”

“Oh come on, Ianto. I want more than that.”

Ianto sat back against a chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

“I want you to sing for me.”

“Really?”

“Naked.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. You’re the one that mentioned it last week.”

“In jest because I was terrified of whatever you and the others were planning.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.” Jack extended an arm and circled his fingers around Ianto’s ankle. He stroked the soft skin on the inside just above his bone. “Could be fun.”

“One day, you’re going to repay me for this.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. But it’s going to be sexy and entirely my fantasy.”

Jack leaned forward and kissed the inside of his ankle. “I can’t wait.”

Ianto tried to look annoyed, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Give me a few minutes to prepare. Choose your song.” He disappeared into the bedroom, trying to figure out how to make singing naked any less awkward. He sat on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t know why he was acting so weirdly all of a sudden. He stood up and walked around the room nervously. The bed was unmade, the blankets bunched at the foot, the sheets wrinkled. Their clothes were thrown all around the room – Ianto’s shirt on a chair, Jack’s braces on the floor, trousers on the dresser, a sock on the lampshade and the windowsill, shoes by the door. Crumb-filled plates from dinner sat on the nightstand, empty coffee cups crowded around them. The book Jack had been reading him earlier lay on the floor, open face down to hold their place.

Maybe he did know the reason. All of this – the uninterrupted time together, Jack cooking for him, walks outside and the cottage and everything else – it overwhelmed him. It was a glimpse of the life they could have together, and Ianto knew that was dangerous. Being there with Jack, thinking about the things that Jack had done, it did make Ianto feel a bit inferior. Boring, even if Jack swore he didn’t find him that way. How could he not? Ianto looked at himself in the mirror. There wasn’t one interesting thing about him. He could never give Jack Paris. Or give him lust-filled nights with anyone other than himself. And, he was afraid, one day that might not be enough.

“Deciding to keep me waiting?” Jack stuck his head inside the door, his smile easy and hair disheveled. Ianto’s heart lodged in his throat. Jack stepped through the door, his gait easy and relaxed. He wished he could be more like Jack, more carefree, less guarded. Ianto turned and leaned against the edge of the dresser, and Jack stood between his legs. He cupped Ianto’s cheeks with both hands and said, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

Ianto smiled and turned his head to kiss the inside of Jack’s palm. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

He slumped a bit and leaned further into Jack’s touch. “Just lost a bit in my own head.”

Jack kissed his lips lightly. “Then it’s a good thing you have me to help you find your way out again.” As he walked out of the room, he said, “Phonograph’s ready when you are. But don’t keep your audience waiting too long.”

Ianto smiled. He didn’t think Jack knew just how right he was. He had helped him break out of the hell he had been living in for so long, helped him finally bury Lisa and move on. There wasn’t a single reason not to trust him, but this holiday had intensified just how strong his feelings were. And that scared him. But maybe he needed to ignore his fear and give in for once.

He rummaged through drawers looking for something to use for props. A black silk scarf was buried at the bottom of a drawer, and he wrapped it around his neck. His fedora was lying with his luggage, so he donned that, and grabbed a comb from the bathroom. After he pulled off his pants, he looked in the mirror and decided he looked ridiculous. Nerves started to set in again, but took a deep breath.

This was Jack. The one person he didn’t have to be self-conscious around. And since this was Jack’s idea, he figured he wouldn’t think he looked nearly as ridiculous as he felt.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ianto yelled out of the crack in the door. Having shaken his odd mood, he realized this was kind of fun. “For one night only, I present for your immense pleasure the musical stylings of one, Ianto Jones!” He flung the door open and stalked out, head held high and shoulders back. Jack stood by the gramophone, applauding and catcalling. When Ianto looked over at him, he noticed Jack had also gotten naked for the performance. It actually made Ianto feel a touch less self-conscious.

Jack cranked the phonograph and lowered the needle onto the record. When Ianto heard the first bars of the song, By The Light of the Silvery Moon, he asked, “This song, really?”

Jack looked down at his floor and shifted from one foot to the other. “I like this song.”

It made sense, of course. Jack was a bit older than he was, and the song would have been popular when Jack was younger. With Jack looking almost embarrassed, Ianto wanted to rush over and fold him in his arms. Instead, he teased, “You would.” Jack looked up at him through his lashes and smiled.

Then Ianto began to sing.

The song choice made the whole situation a bit farcical, but Ianto thought it was easier to sing this instead of some serious song, or worse, a love song. He sang into the end of the comb as Jack sat on the sofa, face full of glee. Feeding off Jack’s reaction, Ianto began to ham it up. He strutted across the small space in the living room, pulled the ends of the scarf out and then slid it off his neck. He tossed it across the room, and Jack caught it and wrapped it around his own neck.

Surprisingly, the performance didn’t feel too different than the ones he’d done at the Hub. It was quieter, but with Jack’s bright eyes burning into him, he fell into the same rhythm he had so many other nights when he’d sang on stage and felt like there was no one else around but the two of them.

When he finished, he took off his fedora and bowed. Jack stood up and clapped wildly.

“Brilliant!” Jack exclaimed.

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

“And more.” The gramophone stopped, so Jack changed records.

Ianto shook his head. “I’m not singing another song.”

As the first notes of Let Me Call You Sweetheart floated into the room, Jack peeled off the scarf and faced him with his hand extended. “Can I have this dance?”

Ianto set the fedora on the mantel and slipped his hand into Jack’s waiting one. Immediately, Jack pulled him close, wrapping one arm low on his waist, his other holding their hands by their shoulders. They swayed to the soft horns, the rhythm slow and sensual. “Why Jack, you didn’t strike me as a romantic.”

“It’s been too long since you’ve danced with me,” Jack said, voice low as he stepped back with his arm extended. Ianto twirled underneath Jack’s raised arm, then easily spun until his back was flush against Jack’s chest. Jack’s arm was tight around his body, the one around his belly holding him close. He could feel Jack’s warmth all around him, his half-hard cock against his back, the soft feel of his skin against his own. Jack’s breath tickled against his ear, the stubble on his cheek rough against his face.

Jack released his arms and Ianto spun out, then stepped close as Jack twined their fingers. Jack dragged his nose across Ianto’s cheek, his lips pressing light kisses against his skin. Ianto sighed.

“Why are you sighing?” Jack whispered against his ear, then kissed it.

“It’s silly.”

“I don’t care.” Jack held Ianto tighter, and they were pressed so close Ianto wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.

“I just wondered how this could be real. It seems too good to be true.”

Jack looked at Ianto, his face so close his nose bumped Ianto’s. His eyes were bright, his pupils large. “I sometimes think that about you.” Ianto slid his arms around Jack’s neck and kissed him, slowly, their lips unhurried, their bodies swaying as their tongues danced together, warm and soft and wet. Ianto wasn’t sure when the record ended, but it didn’t matter. They continued kissing, wrapped around each other, dancing to their own music.

*

Ianto woke before Jack for once. Jack lay on his side, back to Ianto, the sheet kicked to the foot of the bed. Ianto’s eyes roamed Jack’s body appreciatively, from the soft hair at the base of his neck, over his strong shoulders, down the smooth planes of his back, over his perfect ass, down the long legs. He studied the dip of his waist, the fluid motion of his breathing, the soft, lighter hair on the inside of his thigh. Jack’s arm twitched, and Ianto wondered if he was dreaming.

Scooting closer, he lightly ran his fingertips along Jack’s arm, trying not to wake him. Jack didn’t stir. Ianto moved from his arm to his side, then trailed his fingers across his hip to his thigh. Softly, he scratched the skin of Jack’s ass, then slid the flat of his hand up and over his hip. Jack began to move, so Ianto reached lower and wrapped his fingers around Jack’s cock.

Jack’s hips instinctively flexed against Ianto’s hand, his cock hot and heavy and growing harder with each second. Jack moaned sleepily, rolling back against Ianto, his hand reaching out behind him blindly. He felt the air until he touched the top of Ianto’s head, then slid his hand around the back of his skull. His face angled towards Ianto, his eyes still closed, and Ianto wondered if he was even awake yet.

Jack’s nose nuzzled underneath Ianto’s chin, and Ianto bent down and kissed his mouth lightly. His hand slid languidly along Jack’s shaft as he relished the feel of Jack in his grasp. He was fully hard now, and he hooked his leg back over Ianto’s, spreading wider. Finally, he opened his eyes, a bit bleary and unfocused.

“Good morning,” Ianto said softly, squeezing Jack’s cock.

Jack moaned. “I’d say.” Ianto dropped kisses along the side of Jack’s face as he pumped his hand. Jack rested his head against Ianto’s shoulder, his breath puffing against Ianto’s face as his hips pushed into his grip. Ianto felt his own erection trapped against the small of Jack’s back, and he shifted his hips to cause a bit of friction. It wasn’t enough, but enough to satiate him for the moment.

Ianto let go of Jack’s cock momentarily to drop his hand and massage his balls. He rolled them around in his palm, his own hips starting to move a bit faster and more erratically against Jack. Jack moaned again, louder and more alert. Ianto glanced at his face and his eyes were still closed, but Ianto could tell from the change in his expression, his posture, that he was fully awake now.

He gripped his cock again, holding it a bit tighter and increasing his speed. Jack pressed closer against Ianto, adding more friction against his cock trapped between their bodies. Alternately, Ianto tried to maintain his motion on Jack and rub himself against Jack’s skin. Jack dug his fingers into Ianto’s neck and jerked his face down into a kiss when he came, and Ianto couldn’t help himself as his hips moved even faster and he came messily between them.

“Fuck,” Ianto said, dropping his forehead to Jack’s shoulder.

“My thoughts exactly.” Jack craned his neck and kissed Ianto’s cheek until Ianto lifted his head and met his impatient lips.

“I am so sorry I came on your back.”

“Ianto, you never have to apologize for coming anywhere on my person. Actually, you coming on my back might be my preferred wake up method.” Jack grinned and Ianto laughed, then kissed him again.

He didn’t move away yet, didn’t really want to deal with the mess despite the stickiness between them. “I guess we’ll have to change the sheets. Again.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever gone through so many sheets in such a short amount of time.”

“It’s a good thing you keep so many around.”

“I’m always prepared.” Jack finally got off the bed, and Ianto looked up at Jack’s back, then his own stomach, come already starting to dry. “Out of bed, Ianto Jones. Time for a bath.”

“Good idea.” Ianto shook his head in disgust. “I’m gross.”

Jack grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “I like you a bit dirty. It’s kinda hot.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Plus, I think you need to be properly taken care of.” Ianto chuckled as Jack pulled him towards the bathroom.

*

The sun beat down on his shoulders. The heat radiated through his limbs, all the way down to the tips of his fingers and toes. He shielded his eyes as he watched Jack floating on his back from the shore.

“Aren’t you warm yet?” Jack yelled, lifting his head as water trickled along his face. “You’ve been sitting there for too long.”

“The sun feels so good.”

“So does the water.” Jack flipped over and dived under the water, holding himself in a handstand. Everything from the waist down was above water, and he spread his legs as far into a split as he could, exposing everything for Ianto’s viewing pleasure. He laughed and enjoyed the show. Jack’s legs splashed against the water and he resurfaced a few seconds later, his hair plastered against his head as he wiped the water from his eyes.

“Was that supposed to entice me?”

“Did it work?”

“Maybe a little.” Ianto stood up, walked back a few meters, then ran towards the small pond. When he reached the shore, he jumped, tucking his legs into a cannonball, and splashed into the water. The cold water was a sharp jolt to his sun-warmed body, and he broke the water, shivering. “My, this is cold!”

Jack resumed floating on his back, and Ianto swam a few laps around the perimeter. After tiring of that, he found a rock near the edge and sat on it, alternating between holding onto the rock and letting himself float to the surface. A few minutes later, Jack drifted over on his back, his eyes closed.

“This place is perfect,” Ianto observed. “Did you know it was on the property when you bought it?”

“One of the reasons I chose this one. I love to swim.”

“Me, too,” Ianto said. “It reminds me of a swimming hole I used to go to when I was young. Every sunny and warm day, I’d rush there the first chance I got. It was on a neighbor’s property, so we technically were trespassing, but we never got caught.”

“We?” Jack rolled over, his legs sinking as he waved his arms around under the surface to keep afloat.

“My mates. Though, there was this girl – “

“Ooh, do tell.”

“She lived around the block from me,” Ianto explained. “She was a couple of years younger than me, but we used to pass each other in the streets almost every day. I saw her a lot once I started nicking on the streets. One day, she saw me pinch an old man’s wallet. I thought she was going to turn me in, but she never told a soul. The next day she asked me about it, but I didn’t answer and just left her standing there.”

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“She followed me out of town one day, asked me where I was going, if I was going to start stealing from those people now. I just grabbed her hand. It was the first time I ever held hands with a girl.” Ianto smiled at the memory. “She had short blonde hair, and wore these tattered hand-me-down dresses. She always looked dirty – we all always looked dirty.” Ianto looked at Jack, whose face was soft. “I thought I was in love with her. I wrote her poetry like the ones I found in the books my dad read when he was alive, and we met at the pond every other day, even when it snowed. It was a summer day, not too much warmer than this, when I kissed her for the first time. I was fourteen.” He chuckled quietly. “She slapped me when I stuck my tongue in her mouth.”

“She didn’t!”

“I don’t blame her. I kinda jabbed it inside, like I was poking something.” He shook his head. “It was awhile before I got the hang of it.”

“I can personally vouch that you have definitely mastered the art of kissing. And the use of your tongue. Though, I wouldn’t mind if you poked me with it…” Jack grinned and Ianto splashed him with water. “So, she was your first love?”

“I thought I loved her at the time. Puppy love. There were two other girls I courted, so to speak, before I ended up in the war.”

“I’m surprised all the girls, and a few of the boys, weren’t all over you,” Jack said.

“I’ve never been good with talking to people. And I didn’t have a lot of time to anyhow. Between school, running the streets, and trying to find food, there wasn’t a lot of time for romances.”

Jack reached out and squeezed Ianto’s knee under the water. “That’s too bad.” Jack hesitated, then asked, “What about when you met Lisa?”

Ianto was slightly surprised at Jack asking about her; other than when he initially told Jack about her, they’d never spoken of her. He felt an old pain stir inside his chest as her face flashed in mind. He saw her smile, heard her laugh. Jack watched him with understanding as Ianto momentarily got lost in his thoughts.

“It’s funny,” Ianto started, aware of everything around him but his mind years away, “we spent a day in the French countryside when we had some leave. We camped in a field with trees and flowers kind of like this one,” Ianto pointed behind them, not really seeing the trees there, but a forest in France, “and it turned extremely cold that night and we had to wear our coats and share a sleeping bag.”

“Sounds like that could have been fun,” Jack said quietly.

“It was. I can still hear her saying, ‘Ianto, I told you we should have taken that room near the barracks. But no, you had to be difficult and take me camping. The barracks is more fun!’” Ianto laughed quietly to himself, a knot forming in his chest.

Jack slipped his fingers through Ianto’s. “It’s okay to miss her,” he said quietly. Ianto looked at him sharply and wondered how he was reading his mind. “You’ll always love her. It doesn’t change the way we feel.”

“I met her right after I got stationed,” Ianto explained, holding Jack’s hand tightly. “She was so beautiful, Jack, I wish you could have seen her. She was strong and independent and didn’t take anything from anyone. I saw her put officers in their place in front of everyone.” He looked at Jack, feeling odd at sharing all this with him, but somehow, it felt freeing. He had never talked about Lisa with anyone, and it was nice to share it with someone. “We fell for one another quickly, and we were only together a little over a year before the explosion.”

“She was your first true love,” Jack said. “Were you as bad at sex your first time as you were kissing?” he teased cheekily, and Ianto appreciated the break in the mood.

“It was okay, just over quickly,” he admitted, embarrassed.

“I’m glad you can sustain a bit longer now.”

Ianto sprung off the rock, pushing Jack back and under the water. Jack popped up, spewing water and coughing. Ianto hopped onto his back and began trying to dunk him under the water again. Jack attempted to throw him off, but Ianto clung on too tightly. When he failed to dunk Jack again, he kissed his cheek and slid back into the water. “What about you?” Ianto asked, laughing. “Let me guess, your first time was with seven gorgeous crowned princes and princesses from exotic islands.”

“Close,” Jack said, “only four.” He grinned and Ianto shoved him playfully. “No, just one girl. Her father was a butcher and we had sex in the attic of their shop. It was hot and stuffy and smelled like sour meat and blood, and I thought it was the best day of my life. She never talked to me again.”

“You’re pulling my leg.”

Jack shook his head. “Dead serious.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“You lost your virginity at fifteen?” Ianto exclaimed. “That’s so young.”

“You weren’t that much older.”

“Eighteen is a lot different than fifteen,” Ianto argued. “What about with a guy?”

“Sixteen.” Ianto shook his head unbelievably. “I had left home by then, and we were under a bridge.”

“Who was your first love?” Ianto asked. It was hard to imagine Jack that young, and sometimes it was difficult to imagine Jack in a relationship or in love, even with him.

“A boy I met in Italy when I was eighteen. We spent an amazing summer together, and then he went off to school and broke my heart.” Jack smiled sadly. “I think there was a part of me that thought we would be together forever. He was gorgeous, with the most delicious accent. His father owned a vineyard I worked at that summer. We made love and drank wine every day. He took me to see the Coliseum in Rome, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Duomo in Florence. He was an intellectual, interested in literature and history and politics. Last I heard, he was a professor at a University.”

“What did you do when he went to school?” Ianto asked.

“Moved to Greece.” Jack stared at the line of trees over Ianto’s shoulder. “He’s the reason I avoided relationships for a very long time.”

Ianto circled his arms around Jack’s neck and kissed him. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said against his mouth. Jack kissed him again.

*

Ianto perused the volumes, searching for no title in particular. Jack was choosing a record to put on the victrola, the fire crackling low in the fireplace.

“I loved this book as a child!” Ianto grabbed a copy of Kipling’s The Jungle Book from a shelf and began leafing through it.

“Which one?” Jack asked, coming up behind him and looking over his shoulder. “I’ve never read that.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” Jack sat down on the sofa and patted the seat beside him. “Why don’t you read some of it to me?”

Ianto shook his head and placed it back on the shelf. “No, you probably won’t like it. We should read something else, perhaps Dickens or Hawthorne.”

“The book obviously means something to you, so I want to read it so I can know why you love it so.” Jack pointed to the shelves. “Pull it back out and bring it over here.” Ianto obeyed and handed the book to Jack when he sat, but Jack pushed it away. “You read it.”

“But you always read.”

“I know. But I want you to read to me for a change. I’d rather listen to your voice tonight.”

Ianto leaned against the arm of the couch, stretching out his legs. As Ianto began reading, Jack’s fingers played lazily across Ianto’s feet lying in his lap. His voice was accompanied by the soft melodies drifting from the phonograph on the table beside Jack.

He read for over an hour, lost inside the stories he loved as a child. He adopted voices similar to the ones his parents used to when they read to him, and felt pleased every time Jack laughed or asked a question about the story. Jack listened intently while he read, his hands never leaving Ianto’s body. They fluttered absently over his feet, ankles, and calves, touching, rubbing, and scratching along his skin.

When he voice started to become hoarse, he laid the book to the side and looked contently at Jack staring at him from the other end of the couch.

“I can see why you are so fond of those stories,” Jack said. “I can’t wait to finish the book.” Ianto smiled, pleased.

They sat comfortably like that for a bit, Jack running his fingers around Ianto’s calf, the music soft in the background. Ianto thought about the last few days he spent with Jack, and he couldn’t quite believe they had actually had the chance to be a normal couple. And he’d learned quite a bit about Jack, about his family, his past, his former lovers. Ianto felt special that he shared those intimate details with him. As he sat there looking at Jack, he knew that the week had done nothing but made him fall even farther in love with Jack. And he didn’t even know that was possible. And with Jack sitting there, his profile enhanced by the firelight, he knew that Jack truly loved him, too.

“What are you thinking about?” Jack asked.

“You,” he answered honestly.

“Really?” Jack smiled easily.

“Can I ask you something?” Ianto ventured, an idea popping into his mind. He was a bit nervous about asking, but he knew this was the perfect time.

“You don’t always have to ask permission to ask me questions. I’ll answer anything you ask.”

“This is a bit…embarrassing. Well, I’m embarrassed to ask.” Jack waited patiently as Ianto gathered courage. “Can I…um…I don’t quite know how to phrase this…”

“Spit it out, Ianto,” he said gently.

“I want to top.” Ianto wrung his hands nervously in his lap as he waited for Jack’s response.

“You want to top?” Jack repeated. “Why on earth would you be nervous asking me that question? The answer’s yes, of course.”

Ianto’s head shot up. “Really?”

“Ianto, you can do absolutely anything to me that you desire. I thought I’d made that clear, but obviously I haven’t.” Jack crawled up the couch, covering Ianto’s body and kissing him. “One day, you’ll stop doubting my feelings for you.”

He stood up and grabbed Ianto’s hand as he led him to the bedroom. Ianto’s brain was rushing wildly, his body already starting to get excited. He’d wanted to do this to Jack for awhile now, but had never had the confidence either to ask or do it. Now that he had permission, he felt both exhilarated and terrified.

Slowly, they undressed, and Jack lay down on the bed, but Ianto stood, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t exactly know what to do.”

“First,” Jack said, seizing Ianto’s hand and tugging him onto the bed, “you need to be near me.” He kissed his cheek. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll love and enjoy everything you could ever do to me.” He poked Ianto playfully in the side. “Unless you jab your tongue in my mouth or come too quickly.” He grinned, and Ianto laughed, some of the tension easing from his body. Jack kissed his mouth, moving slowly as his hands roamed Ianto’s body. The longer Jack kissed him, the more he touched his skin, the more at ease Ianto felt. A few minutes later, Jack leaned up on his elbow. “Ready? Or do you need a few more minutes? I’m in no rush.”

Ianto sat up. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” Jack kissed him briefly. “Do what you want, what you think I’ll like, what you like me to do to you. And remember, I’ll like just about anything you do to me.” Jack lifted up onto his hands and knees and settled his head and arms on a pillow comfortably.

Ianto looked at Jack in that position, so trusting, waiting on Ianto to take control, and a wave of excitement came over him. This was finally happening, he thought. He began slowly, his hands sliding up the ascent of Jack’s spine, then over the curve of his ass and down his soft inner thighs. Jack’s breathing was steady, his cock already hard, his skin flush in places. Jack wants this too, Ianto thought to himself. He wants this as much as I do.

Ianto rubbed his hands against the cheeks of Jack’s ass, massaging the warm flesh beneath his palms. Jack began making a soft, encouraging noise in his throat, so emboldened, Ianto ran a finger along the cleft, then opened Jack’s cheeks wide. He stilled a moment, just staring at Jack spread before him, adjusting to the entirely new experience. He snapped from his thoughts when Jack wiggled his hips, bringing his attention back to the man in front of him. Almost shyly, Ianto leaned forward and tentatively drew his tongue across Jack’s opening.

“Fuck,” Jack moaned, his hands curling into the sheets. Ianto did it again, enjoying the sounds coming from Jack above him. His fingers tapped a rhythm against Jack’s skin as he worked his tongue, his senses surrounded by Jack’s heavy musk as the tip of his tongue circled around the tight ring of muscle. He relished the feel of Jack as he flexed against his tongue, and as he laved the soft tissue, he decided Jack was absolutely going to have to do that to him soon.

With one final sweep with the flat of his tongue, Ianto sat back on his haunches and grabbed the bottle of lube by his knees.

“Oh my god, Ianto,” Jack said breathlessly, lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. “What the…fuck. You are doing absolutely brilliant.”

“I don’t know why you haven’t done that to me yet,” Ianto said as he squirted the liquid onto his fingers.

“Me either,” Jack said, “and I can’t wait to. If I wasn’t so desperate to see what else you’ve got in store, I’d flip you over right now.”

Ianto laughed as he circled his finger around Jack’s opening, then slid the tip inside. He felt Jack tighten around him, and very slowly, he pushed the digit in to the first knuckle. When Jack relaxed, he slid it further inside, surprised at how hot Jack was around his finger. He slid the finger in and out, letting Jack get used to the sensation before adding another finger. He heard the same hitch in Jack’s breath he’d felt in his own so many times before, and so he waited and then slowly pushed the second finger inside. He carefully fucked Jack with his fingers, transfixed by the sight and the feel of Jack’s body around his fingers.

“That’s enough, Ianto,” Jack croaked, voice hoarse and thin, “unless you want this to be over before you get to have the real fun.”

Ianto removed his fingers and poured a generous amount of lube into his palm and slicked his cock. He pressed the tip against Jack’s opening, his fingers curled around his hip. “Ready?”

Jack straightened and twisted to face Ianto, kissing him fully on the lips. “You’re doing beautifully,” he whispered against his mouth, then bent back down and settled on the pillow. “Ready.”

Slowly, Ianto pushed forward into Jack. He almost forgot to breathe; Jack was so tight around him, so hot, and the further he slid inside, the harder it was to concentrate. “Fuck,” Ianto breathed, fully buried inside. He pulled out, then thrust in again, setting up a quick, steady rhythm. His fingers dug roughly into Jack’s hips, and he briefly hoped he wouldn’t leave marks, but that thought was chased away by the building passion low in his belly.

“God, Ianto,” Jack moaned, Ianto’s thrusts coming faster and harder. He felt Jack pushing back against him with each movement, felt him clenching around his cock, and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He pivoted forward, body flush with Jack’s, and wrapped his arm around Jack to grab his cock. Jack made noises deep in his throat, noises Ianto felt through his entire body, and Ianto dropped kisses across Jack’s shoulders as he pumped his fist.

“Oh Jack, I’m – “ Ianto stilled, buried deep inside Jack as he saw white behind his eyelids and came. He was glad that Jack was already basically holding him up, because Ianto wasn’t sure his body would cooperate on its own. “Oh fuck,” Ianto said, his body still throbbing. He could feel Jack hot around his softening cock, but it took a few moments for him to gather enough wits to move his hand. Still lying against Jack’s back, Ianto began pumping his fist around Jack’s cock. Jack bucked into his hand, and Ianto rocked his hips forward at a soft rhythm, and when Jack tightened around his cock when he came, Ianto thought he might actually come again.

Jack collapsed onto the bed with a loud thud. They lay silent, their breathing heavy and loud in the quiet room. “Fuck, Ianto. Fuck fuck,” Jack repeated, mouth muffled by the pillow.

“So eloquent,” Ianto quipped, voice barely audible.

“I just…fuck.” Jack raised his hand and threaded his fingers in Ianto’s hair. “I can’t even think.”

“I did good then?” Ianto kissed Jack’s sweaty neck.

“Fucking brilliant.”

Ianto finally regained enough strength to push himself up and pull out of Jack, his cock still extremely sensitive. He dropped onto his back on the other side of the bed. Jack didn’t move, just looked at him from the same spot. “I think you broke me.”

Ianto chuckled and rolled onto his side. He kissed Jack’s forehead. “Good.” Jack finally stood up, and reluctantly, they cleaned themselves, and then still slightly dazed, Jack watched as Ianto put fresh sheets on the bed.

After Ianto lay back down in the bed, Jack kissed him slowly, his tongue trying to explore every space in his mouth at the same time. Then, Jack snuggled close against him, head resting on Ianto’s chest. Ianto sleepily ran his fingers through Jack’s hair.

“Ianto?”

“Hmm?”

“You have my permission to do whatever you want to me, whenever you want.” Ianto laughed. He was almost asleep when again Jack asked, “Ianto?”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

Ianto kissed the top of Jack’s head, emotions swelling inside him. “I love you, too.”

*

Warm legs were tangled with his, a steady breathing near his ear. Ianto listened to the constant sound, felt the warmth from Jack’s body on his skin. Carefully and without opening his eyes, he shifted closer so he was touching Jack, pressed his face close against his chest. Jack’s heart beat slowly, the sound exploding in Ianto’s ear with each passing breath. Jack was real, solid flesh, warm heartbeat beside him. Ianto smiled.

Rain beat against the window, an even pattern against the morning. The soothing sound, mixed with the ones coming from Jack, almost lulled him back to sleep. But he felt Jack move beside him, and he opened his eyes.

Jack stared down at him.

“Did I wake you?” Jack asked quietly. Ianto shook his head.

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile.” Jack ran light fingers through Ianto’s hair. “I was watching you. You were smiling in your sleep.”

“I was awake.”

“You were doing it earlier, too,” Jack explained. “Why were you smiling a moment ago?”

“You.” Ianto inhaled deeply and stretched. “I like waking up beside you. It makes me not want to go back home.”

“I don’t want to go back, either,” Jack admitted. “Which is odd. I usually never want to be away. Now I never want to go back.”

“We could run off to the Caribbean,” Ianto joked. “Live in a shack at the beach.”

“Sell beers to tourists,” Jack continued with a smile, “and seashell necklaces you make from the shells you find on the beach.”

“Why do I have to collect shells and make necklaces?”

“Because I’ll be selling the beer to the tourists. And perhaps renting out boats.”

“I’m the bartender. I should serve the beer. Or make daiquiris. You can collect the shells.”

“Okay. I’ll collect the shells.” Jack chuckled.

“We could do it, you know,” Ianto said quietly. “One day. Leave everything behind and start anew somewhere.”

“No violence, no bootlegging, no speakeasy,” Jack mused, “It’s tempting.”

“But not tempting enough.” Ianto looked at Jack sadly.

“Do you hate it all that much?” Jack asked, running his hands through Ianto’s hair again. “Do you want another life that bad?”

“I don’t know,” Ianto said truthfully. “I guess I just want a life with you. Preferably one with less violence.”

Jack leaned down and kissed Ianto’s forehead. “Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions,” Jack recited. His face looked sad, his eyes distant. Ianto wanted to wipe it from his face, fill his eyes with something else. He was too young to look so old and sad.

“Your favorite poem.”

“Maybe one day. Who knows, maybe Prohibition will end and we’ll really go down to the Caribbean and set up that bar on the beach. We could even take Owen, Tosh, Gwen, and Rhys with us.”

“Oh god,” Ianto groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Can you imagine Owen on the beach?”

“It’d be good for him. I think the New York cold has frozen his soul.” Jack slid his fingers along Ianto’s arm and laced their fingers together. “Can you imagine Tosh and Gwen’s clothes?”

“Tosh would probably wear mink on the beach,” Ianto joked.

“Gwen wouldn’t know what to do outside of her flapper style.” Jack laughed. “It’s nice to think about. I never thought about doing anything else until I met you.”

Ianto couldn’t quite believe that he was the one who made Jack contemplate a different lifestyle, but he didn’t say anything. He was afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth, so instead, he snuggled closer into Jack’s arms.

“Thank you again for last night,” Ianto said.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“I hope it’s something we can repeat.”

“You can do anything you did to me whenever you want. In fact, I hope you do it often.”

“Do you like it better?” Ianto asked.

Jack squeezed Ianto’s hand and made a soft sound in his throat. “I don’t think I have a preference. I enjoy them both for different reasons. I like being inside you, feeling you around me, but having you inside me was indescribable. I don’t want to choose.”

“I feel the same way,” Ianto said, fingers drawing figure eights around Jack’s chest. “I didn’t realize how it would feel to do that to you. I felt so…”

“Connected?”

“Exactly.” Jack leaned down and kissed him. His lips were soft, his tongue warm and heavy inside Ianto’s mouth. Ianto relaxed in Jack’s arms as they kissed, his eyes closed and fingers playing with the soft hair at Jack’s nape. Jack’s tongue pushed against his, pressed and nudged and slid, soft muscle swiping against the sensitive roof of Ianto’s mouth, along the ridges of his teeth, the inside of his cheek. Ianto completely lost himself in Jack’s mouth, his body slowly drifting apart as Jack’s hands covered his face, his arm, and the rain splattered against the window. Ianto delighted in the simplicity of kissing and enjoying Jack, something he rarely got to do – just kiss and feel Jack against him. He never wanted this to end, wanted to remain with Jack like this forever, safe and secluded away from the world in a quiet room, held in Jack’s arms.

Finally, Jack pulled away, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes bright blue. He moved to get out of bed, but Ianto grabbed his arm.

“Not yet,” Ianto said. Jack lay back down, and Ianto added, “I just want to lie here, in your arms, and listen to the rain. Is that okay?”

Jack kissed him again. “That sounds perfect.” Jack wrapped his arms tightly around Ianto as Ianto stared out the window and listened to the constant rhythm of the drops on the glass.

*

The rain had tapered off into a light mist by the time Jack and Ianto started for the city. Since Jack was driving, Ianto was appointed the task of flicking the wiper switch back and forth to clear away the accumulated wetness. At first, Ianto had found cranking the mechanical handle entertaining as he watched the blades streak across the glass at whatever speed he chose. But when they had been on the road for a bit, he tired of the redundant motion.

“I don’t want to go back,” Ianto said as they drove slowly down the roads. It was a good thing they left early; the return trip was going to end up taking almost twice as long because of the weather.

“Do you not like your job anymore?”

“It’s not that,” he answered. “I am just sad that our holiday is over. It passed too quickly.”

Jack reached over and grabbed Ianto’s hand. “It’s not like we’re breaking up.”

“I know that. It’s just…” Ianto trailed off, trying to put his feelings into words. The longer he was with Jack, the more he realized just how bad he was at that. “Not the same.”

“Maybe we should make an effort,” Jack suggested. “Focus more on us and less on work.”

“That’d be wonderful. But I believe it’ll be harder than we think.”

“You’re probably right.” Jack squeezed Ianto’s hand. “Small steps.”

“So,” Ianto said, reaching forward with his free hand to grab the lever to wipe away the collecting rain. “Are you going to morph back into Captain Jack Harkness,” he asked, his voice taking on an overly proper tone when he said the name, “or are you going to stay just Jack?”

“You’re the only person on this planet I want to share Jack with.” Jack moved his hand to Ianto’s neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. “You should feel special.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, Jack’s hands playing over the exposed skin of Ianto’s neck and the skin of his shoulders just inside the collar of his shirt. The only sound was the occasional patter of raindrops and the hum of the engine.

Then Ianto asked, “Do you think the Doctor showed up while we were away?”

Jack’s fingers stilled on his neck, and Ianto could feel the sudden tension in his touch. “Probably not.”

“When do you think he’ll arrive?”

“No idea.” Fingernails scraped against Ianto’s nape. “I just have to be ready when he does. We all do.”

*

Jack pulled the car over, the rain too thick to see through. He groaned as he turned off the ignition. “I’m not getting out to crank the car until it stops raining. I don’t fancy driving back to the city in wet clothes.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest driving naked,” Ianto teased.

Jack scooted closer, grinning. “Being naked is always implicit.”

“How stupid of me.”

Jack draped an arm along the seat behind Ianto, pulling him in for a kiss. Jack’s mouth was hot, his tongue soft and wet. Ianto sighed into his mouth, relaxing against his body as he gave into Jack.

They kissed while they waited for the rain to let up. Jack’s hands glided across Ianto’s body, touching every part of him they could, and the longer they kissed, the foggier the windows got. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell when the rain stops,” Ianto said breathlessly, breaking from Jack’s mouth for air. Jack’s mouth was insatiable, moving down to his neck and worrying a spot near his shoulder. Ianto’s eyes fluttered shut as Jack’s teeth and tongue abused his flesh, and he vaguely wondered if Jack meant to leave a mark.

“Take off your trousers,” Jack breathed against his ear, hot and moist breath cutting through the kiss-drunk haze in Ianto’s brain. He barely registered that Jack’s hands were unbuttoning the last few buttons on his shirt.

“Here? Now?”

“I want to fuck you in this car,” Jack said against his neck, his tongue lapping at the dip at the base of his throat. Ianto moaned as Jack slid a hand beneath his undershirt and rolled a pert nipple between his fingers.

“What if we get caught?” Ianto protested, though weakly, as his will was slowly dissolving as Jack pulled up the hem of his shirt and took one of his nipples between his teeth. He reflexively arched into Jack’s touch, his body craving more as Jack gently bit down on the tight bud.

“We won’t,” Jack said, straightening up to unbutton his own shirt. “It’s pouring down rain and we haven’t passed another car all day.” Jack made quick work of his clothes, shoving his braces from his shoulders then removing both his shirts. Ianto’s eyes moved over the bare expanse of his chest, a light flush beginning to creep across his skin, down to his hips and the bulge in his trousers. Futile to even resist, Ianto took off his shirts and began unbuttoning his trousers.

Jack captured Ianto’s mouth again as they tried to finish undressing in the small cab of the car. As Ianto looked down to toe off his shoes and pull his legs from his trousers, Jack raked his teeth against the side of his exposed neck, then bit his shoulder. Ianto quickly kicked off his clothes, then swung his leg across Jack’s lap, accidently bumping the gearshift with his knee in the process.

Ianto’s hard cock bobbed against Jack’s heat, and he reached between them and wrapped both his hands around their cocks. Jack grunted, his heavy-lidded eyes boring into Ianto’s. “Hold on,” Jack said, his voice husky and deeper. Ianto felt his own cock twitch at the sound, and he thumbed the tip of Jack’s, spreading the bit of precome over both the heads. “Don’t come.” Jack reached behind the seat, searching inside his coat for something. Finally, he retrieved a bottle of lube. Ianto looked at him, confused. “You’re not just getting a handjob or blowjob. I’m going to fuck you, Ianto Jones, right here in this car.”

“Fuck,” Ianto said for lack of anything better. As Jack squirted lube on his fingers, Ianto tried to come up with some reason they shouldn’t do this here, like getting caught by the police or anyone else. But even that wasn’t enough reason for Ianto to argue.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you went down on me in the car the other day,” Jack said, slipping a finger inside Ianto. Ianto exhaled loudly and pressed further down onto Jack’s hand. He added another finger. “That way, whenever I drive the car, I can think of you like this,” Jack said, voice dangerously low and sexy, his fingers fucking Ianto as Ianto widened his legs, “back pressed against the dashboard, heels digging into the seats, you on my lap with your legs open wide.” Jack slid his fingers out and in, twisted them around when they were fully inside, and Ianto almost came from that.

“Jack,” Ianto breathed, his body aching and needing more. Jack’s fingers were teasing, driving him closer but also keeping him on the brink, begging for more. With no care to how it looked, Ianto lifted his hips and pushed down onto Jack’s fingers as he slid them back inside, trying to get more of Jack inside him. “Please.”

“Please what?” Jack asked, removing his fingers and pouring more lube into his palm. Ianto held himself up as Jack slicked his length and shifted so the tip nudged Ianto’s opening.

“Fuck me. Now,” Ianto growled, his body throbbing with desire. He couldn’t handle one more second of Jack teasing him, and when Jack gripped his hips and guided him down onto his cock, Ianto almost wept from relief. He slid all the way down, settling on Jack’s lap as he adjusted to his cock inside him. With Jack’s hands for support, Ianto lifted up, barely able to think as he felt the hard shaft sliding inside him, out again, then filling him once more. His thighs burned from the exertions, the position awkward, the gearshift bumping his ass occasionally when he thrust down on Jack’s cock. His elbow knocked the steering wheel, and his heel slipped on the leather seat, but he didn’t care. The sound of the rain mingled with the wet slap of their bodies as he moved on Jack’s lap, pounded down on him; it felt odd, Ianto thought, because even though Jack was fucking him, it was Ianto that set the rhythm, the angle, the pace. And he decided he was going to take full advantage of that.

Slowing down a moment, he leaned forward and kissed Jack, his tongue penetrating every part of Jack’s mouth as he moved at a frustratingly leisurely pace, his hips barely moving as he felt every motion, every pulse, every heated second of Jack as he moved inside him. Jack’s breath was heavy in Ianto’s mouth, his groan deep as Ianto clenched around the head of his cock then pushed back down over the shaft.

Ianto felt Jack’s urgency growing, felt his hips thrust upward, trying up bury himself deeper inside. Ianto hooked his arms around Jack’s neck as he kissed him even deeper, and Jack wrapped one hand around Ianto’s cock while the other gripped his hip almost painfully. The car rocked under the weight of their movements, a soft squeak barely audible over the rain and their own noises. Ianto could feel Jack’s fingers digging into his flesh, could feel him tremble beneath him. Jack’s grasp was tight around his cock as he pumped his fist, and Ianto shoved himself further and harder onto his shaft.

He felt Jack’s hand slip from his cock and grab his other hip as he guided Ianto faster, Jack’s hips thrusting him deeper inside him. With every thrust, Ianto saw a flash behind his eyelids, his passion pooling low in his belly and building every time he felt Jack buried deep inside him. Then Jack clutched Ianto’s hips roughly, holding him down over his cock, and Ianto felt Jack come inside him. Then Jack reached between their bodies and gripped Ianto’s own cock, fisting it quickly; Ianto came against their stomachs with a moan.

Ianto dropped his forehead against Jack’s, his breathing loud and unsteady. He tried to gather himself together, pull himself from whatever reaches Jack had just flung him to. His legs were trembling from the position, and when he shifted, he noticed Jack was trembling, too.

Jack pulled Ianto even closer, their damp chests pressed together, and kissed him. His fingers splayed across the back of Ianto’s skull, bringing their faces even closer together, and Ianto wondered if Jack was somehow trying to merge them together.

“Thank you,” Jack said when he pulled away, Ianto’s face between his hands.

“I feel I should be thanking you,” Ianto said, lifting up and off of Jack’s lap. He was damp and sticky, and his entire body ached, but he didn’t care. “If more people knew you could do that in a car, I believe more people would purchase them.”

Jack chuckled. “We should do an advertisement.” He remained still on the seat, his breath coming in deep, loud gasps. “Good thing the rain hasn’t let up yet. I don’t think I can drive. Plus, I have to find my underwear.”

Ianto laughed. “Because no proper gentleman drives around without underwear.”

“Gracious, no! I am, after all, a gentleman escorting his date home from a proper holiday. Completely innocent and entirely proper.” Jack smiled and Ianto grabbed his own pants from the door handle.

*

The Hub looked exactly as he’d left it. After they had unloaded the car and freshened up, Jack had gone to the diner to meet with Owen, and Ianto decided to check to make sure the Hub was still in one piece. Even though they had run the bar over a year before he began working there, he felt it was his specific responsibility.

After checking all the bottles, the cups, the placement of the shakers, Ianto went back into the kitchen. Mickey was near the back, mopping.

“Hey,” Ianto said, crossing to the coffee maker.

“Back I see. Have a good time?” Mickey asked, leaning on the broom.

“It was nice, thank you.” Ianto looked around the kitchen as the coffee began percolating. The kitchen was pristine. “You’re doing a great job. The kitchen was never this clean when I did this. I never seemed to have the time to do more than just quickly wash the dishes.”

“Thank you.” Mickey smiled, pleased. “I’m glad you approve. I hope Mr. Harkness notices. I’d really like to keep this job.”

“I’ll make sure you do. You really don’t know how much you’ve helped me out.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Mickey stepped a bit closer, his voice low.

“Sure.”

“Mr. Harper was on me the entire time you were gone, yelling and criticizing everything I did. I had to help him tend the bar last night, and he kept calling me stupid. You don’t think he’s going to fire me, do you?”

Ianto tried to cover his laugh. “Don’t worry about Owen. He’s like that with everybody. He doesn’t like me either.”

Mickey shook his head. “That’s not the way it seems. Ever since you left, he’s been on and on about ‘Ianto does this’ and ‘Ianto did it this way’ and ‘When is Ianto getting back?’ I thought you were a close team.”

Ianto watched as Mickey went back to his mopping, his words unbelievable. Owen had said that? Maybe Jack had been right; maybe Owen liked him more than he realized. Perhaps he’d been a bit harder on Owen than he should have.

Steaming cup of coffee in hand, Ianto exited the kitchen and sat on a stool, sipping slowly and trying to figure out what to do before work. He still had a few hours until opening. He was about to go upstairs to unpack when Tosh came out of her dressing room, a sequined top dangling unlaced on her upper body, a slip hanging to her knees.

“Ianto!” she squealed when she saw him.

“What’s on your head?” He pointed to her hat, which was a mess of multi-colored feathers with large sections missing.

“A failed experiment. Last night, Gwen and Martha decided to make me a new outfit for tonight’s show. Then they got into the gin.” She pulled the offensive article from her head. “Hence, this monstrosity.” She shook her head. “Everyone knows that you can’t mix red, orange, and pink! Ugh!” She tossed the hat onto the counter.

“I didn’t know that.”

“You’re male,” she supplied. “Plus, you’ve never mixed the colors, so yes, I believe you do know that.”

“Orange is a hideous color,” Ianto said, crinkling his nose. “I don’t mind a dress shirt or tie in red and pink, but I refuse to wear orange.”

“Would you like to go to dinner?” Tosh asked, reaching around her back and holding the top closed. She looked down at the fit on both sides, then slid it off. “I just have to put on my dress.”

“Sure.”

Ianto waited while Tosh hurried back to her dressing room. She appeared a few minutes later in a white day dress and wide brimmed hat.

“You look lovely.” He offered her his arm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed so casual,” he teased.

“I daresay an evening gown is inappropriate for dinner!” He laughed as he escorted her upstairs.

They took a taxi to Jack’s restaurant uptown. When Ianto entered the dining room, he looked around in awe. The walls were a polished dark wood, the mahogany tables and chairs covered by white tablecloths, and large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. He didn’t know much about fine silver or china, but he could tell from the place settings that they were expensive.

“This place is much nicer than I expected,” Ianto said, looking around. The light early dinner crowd was dressed in elegant clothes, not the fancy evening clothes he often saw at the speakeasy, but classy ensembles. He was surrounded by some of New York’s social elite. He felt a bit underdressed.

“You haven’t been here before?” Tosh asked, opening the menu.

Ianto shook his head. “I’ve made deliveries to the lobby and the back rooms, but I’ve never been inside.”

“I’m surprised Jack hasn’t brought you here.” She closed her menu and looked at him. He felt his face color.

“We…we don’t go out much,” Ianto explained.

When the waiter came, Ianto wasn’t sure what to order, so Tosh ordered for both of them. After the waiter left, she leaned forward, and he did the same.

“How was your week?” she asked, voice quiet. He spun his glass around uncomfortably, not sure he wanted to exactly talk about Jack with anyone, even Tosh. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I’m not asking for the sake of gossip – I would never share anything you said with the others – I just care about you and am genuinely curious.” Ianto looked up, her face sincere. She reached out and covered his hand with her own smaller one, and Jack’s story about her being a prostitute popped into his mind. He studied her, so small, so sweet and trusting, so beautiful, and he couldn’t imagine her leading a life like that. She shouldn’t even being singing in a speakeasy every night. She was better than that, should be part of the social circles at the tables around them, not sitting with an ex-thief soldier. “What is it?” she asked, smiling.

Ianto shook his head. “Nothing. The week was...wonderful.” He smiled, felt his cheeks burning. It felt weird to talk about Jack with anyone.

“What is Jack’s cottage like?”

“Smaller than I expected,” Ianto explained, “though you should see his car.”

“His car? How fancy! I should get him to take me for a ride sometime.” Ianto’s mind flashed to their stop earlier today, and he took a quick drink of water. “What did the two of you do?”

He hesitated. Talked in between a sex marathon seemed an inappropriate response. “Not much,” he said, “we actually relaxed. Jack didn’t do a bit of work while we were there.”

She smiled and patted his hand. “I’m so happy for the two of you. I’ve known Jack for quite awhile, and I’ve never seen him so happy.”

“Thank you.”

Over their meal, Tosh said, “I have something to tell you. I’ve been waiting for you to come back so I could. You’re the only one I feel comfortable confiding in.”

“What is it, Tosh?”

She pushed fish around her plate nervously. “While you were away, I…well…Martha and I became rather close.” She stared at him, biting her lip self-consciously.

“You and Martha?” he whispered. “How?”

Tosh shrugged. “She’s been hanging around the Hub every night. The second night, I noticed she was flirting with me. The third night, I realized I didn’t mind so much.” She sighed and set her fork down delicately. “Ianto, it’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone interested in me for me, not just because I was a singer they fantasized about. I know I could have my choice of suitors every week, but I’m not interested in that. Perhaps that is a bit of my upbringing coming out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being choosy, Tosh. Nothing says you must be promiscuous.”

“I know that. But I’m lonely, you know? Gwen has Rhys, you have Jack, and Owen…has his string of relationships.”

Carefully, Ianto said, “I thought you and Owen…”

“I thought that, too. But then he shut me out again.” She took a sip of wine. “I love him, you know. I hate him sometimes, but I love him. He’s a rude, crude, insufferable man. He’s terrible to you and just about everyone else, but he’s also a good, honorable, and loyal man. I’m a fool, I know.”

Ianto shook his head. “Loving someone doesn’t make you a fool,” he said, patting her hand in understanding. “Even if it is Owen.”

She shot him a look, but then laughed. “You’re terrible, Ianto.” She picked her fork back up and poked at her fish. “I like Martha. She’s extremely funny, incredibly intelligent, and beautiful. I can’t wait around for Owen forever.”

“I didn’t know that you…fancied women.”

“I don’t,” Tosh admitted. “That’s the funny thing.” She paused. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Had you been interested in men before Jack?”

“No.”

“Then why are you with him?”

Ianto thought about her question, trying to formulate a coherent answer. He wasn’t sure words could capture the depth of his feelings for Jack. “Because I love him,” he finally said. “I don’t know what it was that attracted me to him, other than the fact that he’s Jack. I’m not sure there’s a person alive who could resist him.”

“I believe you are right,” Tosh agreed. “Jack is quite charming.”

“It’s not just that,” Ianto continued, “I actually find that part easy to ignore most of the time. He’s different when we’re alone. He intrigued me, and when we danced the first time – before I had barely even talked to him – I had never felt so attracted to someone.” Ianto ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m doing a terrible job explaining myself.”

“You’re doing fine,” Tosh said gently. “There’s no right or wrong answer.”

“I lost my fiancé in the war and didn’t think I’d ever love again. She was the one. And then I met Jack, and he broke through the wall I’d built around myself. I didn’t care if Jack was male, female, or from the moon. I fell in love with what’s inside, the person he is and the person he makes me. I don’t care what package that comes in.” Ianto smiled and added, “Though I’m quite glad it comes in such an attractive package.”

Tosh laughed and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you for sharing that. I can’t say that I quite feel that way about Martha, but I do like being around her. She makes me feel like a woman, and no person has done that in a long time.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

“I just never thought about fancying a woman! It’s positively scandalous. What would my father say?” She giggled.

“Pardon me if I’m being indelicate, but have you two…” Ianto waved his hand around, unable to say the words. Tosh’s eyes grew wide.

“No!” She jutted her chin out defiantly. “I am a lady after all, Ianto Jones.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t, but I prefer to move a bit slower. Though…” Her face colored.

“You’ve thought about it?” Ianto said, voice teasing.

She nodded. “I’ve never had thoughts like that about a woman, but when she kissed me…” Somehow, her face became an even deeper crimson. “I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

“Then we should be celebrating.” He grabbed his wine glass and lifted it. “To new, exciting, and somewhat unexpected experiences.”

“To us,” she said, clinking her glass against his.

*

The microphone stand felt good in his hand. The cool metal, the heat of the spotlight shining on him, the din of the crowd as the band swelled behind him. He never would get tired of this, he knew.

The set was upbeat tonight, the people on the floor below dancing fast paced Charlestons and even Texas Tommys. Ianto glided across the stage, as far as the reach of the microphone stand would let him, and even went back to dance beside the trumpet and string bass players during instrumental breakdowns. The atmosphere in the Hub was cheerful, accented by blithe dancing and laughing.

Gwen scooted across the floor, bouncing from partner to partner, her arms and legs flailing in perfect time. Tosh and Martha danced among the men, switching partners almost as often as Gwen, but also gravitating back towards one another and dancing together. Jack danced over to the side, his partner a short, black haired woman who couldn’t do the Charleston nearly as well as everyone around her, especially Jack. Ianto laughed watching Jack’s movements, his feet moving quickly to the music. The woman wasn’t nearly as fast, and her feet got off and she would move her foot in when Jack did instead of out. But Jack didn’t seem to notice. He was engulfed in the music, his feet kicking front, back, and out with practiced skill. His arm sat loosely on the woman’s back and he led her around, his face shining with laughter. Ianto loved seeing this side of him, a different kind of playful that he only displayed on the dance floor. Ianto also was glad that he was up there singing instead of dancing, since he knew he’d never be able to do a fraction of those moves.

When Ianto was done, he ran off stage to loud applause. It was a good feeling.

The bar was packed nearly all night, so he barely had a chance to speak to anyone. He hadn’t even seen Gwen or Rhys tonight, and Owen had come in right after the doors opened. Around eleven, a lull fell on the bar as everyone slow danced to Tosh’s smoky vocals.

“I’m glad the Hub wasn’t this busy while you were gone,” Owen said, pulling a few unopened bottles of liquor from various hidden compartments. Ianto tossed the empty ones in the garbage bin. “Mickey is a terrible bartender.”

“Is that your way of saying you missed me?” Ianto joked. “Or perhaps a compliment?”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He poured a gin tonic for someone, then turned back to Ianto. “How was your week with Jack?”

Surprised at the question, Ianto quickly answered, “Fine.”

“Just fine? I’m surprised you’re here actually. I’d have thought you wouldn’t be able to walk after three days alone with Jack.”

“Jealous?” Ianto asked to cover his embarrassment.

“Hardly. I tend not to fuck the people I work with.”

Ianto just rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, a woman approached the bar and ordered a whiskey on the rocks from Owen. Ianto noticed her immediately because instead of the standard evening gown or flapper dress, she wore tan trousers, a white blouse, and boots. Her dark hair hung in curls around her shoulders.

“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Owen said, sidling over beside Ianto as they both watched her from the opposite corner of the bar. She sat on a stool and leaned back against the counter, watching the dance floor.

“Her outfit?”

“No, Jones. A doll at the bar.” Owen huffed in annoyance. “Really.”

“Excuse me for not being a mind reader,” Ianto retorted. “She does stand out.”

They continued staring as she took a cigarette case from her pocket and pulled one out. A man immediately came up and offered her a light. She took it, and the man started talking to her, but she blew him off. Owen laughed.

Ianto had to turn away when a line of customers barraged the bar. One of them was a regular, and he ordered two vodka tonics.

“One for me,” he told Ianto, “and one for this doll here.” He pointed to the woman.

“No thank you,” she said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “This doll can pay for her own drinks.”

Ianto was impressed by her response. Very few women turned down men buying them drinks. But the gentleman wasn’t so impressed.

“What’s it gonna hurt to let me buy one teensy drink for you, doll?” He stepped closer to the woman, and she stared at him with disdain. Owen was serving his own customers, but Ianto saw him watching the scene out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, it won’t hurt anything, doll,” she said, “but I don’t want a drink from you. I want a drink from myself.” She stubbed her cigarette out in an ashtray. “And don’t call me doll again.”

She spun around on the stool, turning her back towards him. The man tossed some money on the bar as he muttered, “Stupid nineteenth amendment.”

The woman turned away a host of other men while she sat at the bar. She didn’t meet anyone, talk to anyone, or move to dance. She sat on the stool, smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey that she paid for herself.

“What do you think?” Owen asked Ianto when they had another break. “Prohibition agent? Cross dresser? German spy? Leader of the rights movement?”

“I think she just wants to be left alone,” Ianto said as she ignored another man who tried to talk to her. “Why?” He turned to look at Owen, who actually looked uncomfortable.

“No reason. Just curious.” Owen walked over to the other end of the bar, right behind the mystery woman. She spun around on her stool, and Ianto stepped a bit closer so he could hear.

“Got a light?” She held the cigarette between two long fingers. Owen reached under the bar and grabbed a pack of matches, pulling one out. He struck it and held the flame just far enough away that she had to stretch forward across the bar. Sticking the end between her lips, she maneuvered the end into the flame and inhaled. She sat back, studying Owen carefully, then exhaled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Owen poured a drink for a waiting customer, and when he finished, he ignored her. But she was still watching him.

“What’s your name?” she finally asked.

“Owen.” He looked up from the shaker he was cleaning.

“Diane.” She took another thoughtful drag from her cigarette, turning her head to exhale, eyes never leaving Owen.

Ianto missed what they said next because Gwen ran up to him, her cigarette box around her neck. She pulled the strap over her head and dropped it on the floor. “Ianto!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek. Ianto noticed that both Owen and Diane glanced over at them. “I missed you!”

“I was only gone three days,” Ianto said, trying to push Gwen away before she squeezed him to death.

“I know, but the Hub just isn’t the same without you. This guy,” she said, pointing to Owen, “is absolutely no fun most of the time. He just sits behind the bar and broods all night.”

“Shove off, Gwen.”

“How was your trip? Was it positively romantic? I want to hear all about Jack’s cottage and what you two did and how he romanced you. I’ve always wanted to go away to the country, but Rhys won’t take me. I don’t think he has a romantic bone in his body. Don’t get me wrong, I love him and he’s wonderful, but his idea of a romantic evening is sandwiches from the deli around the corner and listening to the radio.” She placed a hand on Ianto’s arm and laughed.

“The trip was nice,” Ianto answered.

Gwen waited, but Ianto didn’t continue. “That’s it? Nice? Nothing about the cottage? Or romantic things that Jack did for you?”

“He cooked for me,” Ianto relented, knowing that if he didn’t say something Gwen would never leave him alone. “And the cottage is lovely.”

“Jack cooked for you?” She leaned closer, voice low. “Jack Harkness? Cooked for you?” Ianto nodded. She squealed and clapped her hands together. “Applesauce! I didn’t know Jack was that sweet.” Apparently satiated with enough details, she scampered back into the crowd. Ianto really wanted to know why everyone was so interested in the way Jack had been the last few days. He laughed when he imagined their reactions if he told them everything.

In the periphery, Ianto saw Diane stand up. She drained the rest of her whiskey and stubbed out her cigarette. “Owen,” she called, interrupting Owen as he served a customer. “Monday night. I’ll be here at nine.” She looked him up and down. “And wear something nice if I’m going out into public with you.” And then she sauntered towards the exit.

“Did she just ask you out?” Ianto said, ignoring the customers at the bar.

Owen stared after her in disbelief. “I can’t believe she said yes. I told her we should do something sometime, but she ignored me.” He looked at Ianto smugly. “She turned down every man tonight, but accepted my date. That, my friend, takes skills.”

“Oh yes,” Ianto said sarcastically, “you’re a total sheik. The bee’s knees really, Owen.”

“Fuck you, Jones.” But he was smiling.

*

After closing, Owen, Ianto, and Jack sat at the bar. Jack had opened an expensive bottle of scotch and poured some into three tumblers. They heard a noise from the back, and Jack and Owen pulled their guns since everyone else had gone home. Tosh, followed closely by Martha, ran in through her dressing room looking disheveled and panicked. Jack was immediately on his feet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, shoving his gun back into its holster. Wrapping an arm around Tosh’s shoulders, he led her to the bar and placed her on a stool. Ianto was already pouring her a glass of brandy.

“Thank you.” Tosh gratefully took the tumbler with shaking hands. Ianto noticed that her makeup was smeared from crying. She took a slow sip, then looked beside her at Owen. “He tried to break into my flat.”

“Oh shit,” Owen said and ran a hand across his face. “I knew I should have escorted you home.”

“It’s okay,” Martha interjected from behind Tosh, “I was there to protect her. Scared away the scoundrel, too.”

“You were there?” Owen asked, looking at her sharply.

“Hold on,” Jack cut in, coming around the bar to stand beside Ianto so he could face the others. “Someone tell me what in the hell is going on. Who tried to break into your apartment?”

“Owen, you explain,” Tosh said, lifting the glass, “I’m too upset to talk.” Jack turned hard eyes on Owen.

“Two nights ago, Tosh was leaving the Hub from the back exit and had someone following her,” Owen explained. “And not just anyone, but that cake-eater you gave the bum’s rush the other night.”

Jack’s face was terrifying. “The guy in the booth?”

“Same one,” Martha said.

Owen continued tentatively, slightly unnerved by Jack’s expression. “She came back to the Hub, and I walked her to her door and made sure she got inside.”

“Why wasn’t I informed about this the moment I returned?” Jack yelled, a vein protruding on the side of his head.

“Nothing has happened since. I thought we scared off the guy.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Tosh finally spoke. Everyone turned to her. She stared at the counter. “I’ve felt like someone’s been following me for almost a week.”

“A week?” Owen exclaimed.

Tosh finally looked up. “I thought I was being paranoid, what with that happening to me, then all of you disappearing off into the middle of the night and leaving us here alone with guns.” Ianto looked guiltily at both women. “But after that happened the other night, I realized I may have not been wrong after all. Then last night, I noticed him following me, but I was almost home, so I ran inside my building.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Owen asked, more harshly than Ianto thought he should have.

Tosh looked like she was barely keeping her wits about her. “I didn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble.”

“How is your safety unnecessary trouble?” He grunted and reached for the bottle of scotch Jack had left on the counter and refilled his tumbler.

“What happened tonight, Toshiko?” Jack asked, his voice more gentle than his body betrayed.

“I returned home with no problems; I didn’t even see him. But minutes later, someone was pounding on my door. I was too scared to open it, because it wasn’t a normal knock. I knew Martha was supposed to drop by, but she would never knock like that. Then he started screaming, telling me to open the door, calling me names.” Tosh’s hands were trembling so badly the glass she held clinked against the wood. “I didn’t know what to do. So, I crouched in the corner and covered my ears, praying one of my neighbors would hear and do something.”

“How long did this go on?” Jack asked, voice eerily calm.

“Almost ten minutes.”

“Then I showed up,” Martha said, placing a hand on Tosh’s shoulder. “When I turned the corner, I saw him at her door. I ran towards him, yelling, and pulled my gun. He dashed away real quick. He did a number on Tosh’s door, too. Almost kicked it in. If I had shown up a few minutes later, he may have succeeded.”

“Why in the world did you come back here?” Jack asked. “Didn’t you think he might still be around?”

“Oi, Jack. I can take care of myself,” Martha argued, whipping her pistol from inside her jacket. “Wasn’t nobody gonna mess with me or her. Besides,” she said as she put away her gun, “we took a taxi.”

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, at least you’re here and safe.”

“What are you going to do?” Owen asked.

Jack looked at the women, then at Owen. “Protect my people.” He walked from behind the bar, towards the secret passage in the wall. “Owen, stay with them until I return.”

Ianto rushed after him as he slipped inside the passageway. “Jack,” he called, the door clicking shut behind him. Ianto lost all sense of his bearings since they were in complete darkness. “What do you want me to do?”

“Stay and help Owen,” Jack instructed from close by.

“Who’s going to help you?”

“No one. I’ll take care of it myself.”

Ianto reached forward in the darkness, took a few steps until he brushed Jack’s chest. He moved his hands until he found his shoulders and grabbed them. “You don’t need to do this alone.”

“I don’t want you there with me, Ianto. You don’t need to witness this.”

“That’s exactly why I need to be there.” He stepped closer, Jack’s warmth amplified in the darkness. “If you go alone, I don’t know what will return to me. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Jack sighed, relented. “Fine.”

They only took one fully loaded gun a piece. Jack didn’t say anything, just briskly walked along the dark streets in front of Ianto to Tosh’s apartment building. Ianto had never seen where she lived; it was a modest, yet nice high rise not too far from the theater, but in a much nicer neighborhood. She lived on the fourth floor.

When they reached her door, Ianto gasped at the damage the man had caused. The door was dented and scarred, the doorknob badly in need of replacing. Jack had trouble unlocking the door with the key Tosh lent them, and inside, Ianto thought he had never seen Jack so angry – and that was saying something.

The window leading to the fire escape had been broken, and someone had obviously been through Tosh’s things. Magazines and books were strewn everywhere, and inside her bedroom, her drawers had been rummaged through.

“He’s a dead man,” Jack said, then quickly left the apartment.

“How are we going to find him?” Ianto asked, feeling rather stupid.

“I have a hunch,” Jack answered. They walked down the stairs and out through the back, into the alley. Jack canvassed the area, and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he told Ianto to go look around the adjacent street. After finding nothing, Jack instructed him to stand somewhere discreet and wait.

Jack’s hunch paid off. Fifteen minutes later, a man walked past Ianto and into the alley. Silently, Ianto followed him, his gun aimed and ready. As the man neared the back entrance to the building, Jack appeared almost as if from thin air. He stopped directly in front of the man, extremely imposing standing tall in his coat, revolver pointed, bathed in shadow.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Jack said.

“Who the hell are you?” the man shouted. He reached for his gun, but Jack shot him in the knee, shocking Ianto. Ianto momentarily feared they had the wrong man. “Fuck! You crazy bastard!” Jack closed in on him from the front as Ianto brought up the rear. The man glanced over his shoulder, and Ianto recognized him from when he punched him that night. “You two are the fags from that speakeasy. That bitch sent you, didn’t she?”

“That bitch has a name,” Jack managed through gritted teeth. “Ianto.” He nodded to Ianto, who had slipped on black gloves while waiting. Holstering his gun, he pulled the tarp from the bag he’d stashed behind the dumpster. He spread it on the ground, and the man started hysterically yelling, so Jack kicked him in the face to shut him up. Then Ianto bent down and tried to grab the man’s gun, but he went to hit Ianto. Luckily, Ianto’s reflexes were quicker and he landed a right hook against the man’s jaw, sending blood flying to the side onto the tarp. With the man dazed, Ianto took his gun, moved him to the tarp, and then searched his person for anything else. He pulled something from his trousers pocket, disgusted.

“Jack.” He held the article up, one of Tosh’s undergarments.

Jack grabbed the piece of clothing, and balled it in his fist. “You sick son of a bitch. Grab his head.” Ianto did as instructed, and Jack punched him in the nose, then forced his mouth open and shoved the garment inside. “You like stalking women? You like stealing their underwear? You like scaring them and forcing them against their will and breaking into their houses?” Jack kicked him in the stomach, and when the man howled in pain, muffled around the clothing, and rolled onto his back, Jack kicked him between the legs, causing the man to groan even more urgently. “Get him on his knees.”

Ianto grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, his knee and mouth leaving blood on the tarp. Ianto couldn’t see the other man’s face, but Jack’s eyes were full of cold fury, a look he’d only seen once before. It brought back bad memories, flashes of rotten trenches, white silk, and blood mingled in black curls. His stomach coiled, his dinner rising into his throat. This wasn’t the Jack he knew and loved. This was the Jack that haunted those clear blue eyes, that threatened to break the man living inside that thin skin from the inside out, that caused him to look at the world through the eyes of someone who’s lived over a century. This was the monster that lived well hidden deep inside Jack, the one he tried to keep as buried as Ianto tried to keep the monsters inside him buried.

Jack pulled back the hammer and pointed the gun at the man’s head as Ianto moved away.

“I told you not to touch my fucking things.”

Then Jack pulled the trigger. The sound ricocheted in the alley, echoing in Ianto’s ears, into his soul and his dreams. The man fell back into blood and bone, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. Ianto turned away and took a few deep breaths, steeling himself. He was a soldier; he would not vomit, he would not tremble.

He’d have to be there for Jack when this Jack was reburied in a coffin made of his victim’s bones, deep in the soft soil of his soul, leaving the real Jack naked, bleeding guilt and responsibility for Tosh, Ianto, the whole fucking world, the synapses and sinews of his core exposed and raw. Ianto would be there to kiss away the shadows and the pain.

Ianto turned back around and helped Jack roll the man up in the tarp. They found a manhole nearby that led into the sewer, and Ianto helped Jack carry the body over and then drop it inside the hole. After removing his coat, Jack went down the metal ladder inside the sewer to finish disposing of the corpse while Ianto reentered the building, filled a bucket he found in a maid’s closet with water, and lifting some of the cleaning supplies, cleaned up the traces of blood on the asphalt. By the time he’d finished and returned the cleaning supplies, Jack was waiting on the street, the manhole in place.

“No one will find him for quite some time,” Jack said. He was filthy and smelled terrible. “Don’t ever tell Tosh where he was killed.”

He didn’t have to tell Ianto anything. Ianto would take this to his grave.

*

Jack gave Tosh money to stay at a nice hotel until her apartment was repaired. She tried to refuse, then refused his money, but eventually she relented, and Owen escorted her and Martha to the hotel. Ianto stayed close to Jack, worried. He had barely said a word.

They returned upstairs, and after shedding their dirty clothes, Ianto put them, and Tosh’s stolen item, into a garbage bag and decided to throw them out. Or maybe burn them. He’d decide in the morning.

Ianto joined Jack in the shower, but Jack just stood under the spray, his hands flat against the wall as the water beat on his shoulders. Eventually, Ianto soaped up a washrag and began washing Jack’s arms and back until finally Jack stood up and moved enough to allow Ianto to cleanse the rest of him. As Ianto washed the soap from Jack’s hair, he noticed the distance in every fiber of Jack’s being, and inappropriately realized this is the longest he’d gone touching Jack without Jack touching him back. He looked down and noticed Jack’s cock was still soft.

When they got out, Ianto toweled Jack dry, then crawled in bed. To his surprise, Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto, his body trembling, his ragged breath against Ianto’s skin. Jack didn’t say anything, just held onto Ianto, and when Ianto finally fell asleep hours later, Jack still had not let go.

*

The dank earth surrounded him on all sides, the stars in the sky the only reminder of life elsewhere. He ran, heard the screams. Then he saw Tosh sinking into the mud, the trench claiming her like a mouth closing around the top of her head. No matter how much he dug, his fingers clawing muck and sludge, he couldn’t dig her out.

He stood up, turned to the side and saw Jack, his back against the trench wall, his mouth open as a bloated undead creature crawled from inside, smelling of sewer and decay. The demon had Jack’s face, his clothes, the skin falling off revealing the ivory of Jack’s bones. The other Jack cried out behind him, cried Ianto’s name as the earthen wall swallowed him.

“Jack!” Ianto screamed, so loudly his ears rang. “Jack!”

“Ssh,” a voice cooed in his ear, and Ianto jerked awake, his throat raw. Instinctively, he turned into Jack’s embrace, his body warm, his heartbeat reassuring. “I’m so sorry, Ianto.”

“I’m the one who woke you,” Ianto croaked out.

“But I’m the one who woke your nightmares.”

“This time, they’re our nightmares.” Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack tighter, wishing he could chase away both their demons.

*

Ianto woke and rolled over into Jack’s spot, longing to feel him close. The bed was cold, but smelled of Jack, so Ianto inhaled and dozed back off, surrounded by his scent.

When he woke again, he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. They had killed someone. Ianto had helped kill someone. Again. This wasn’t an attack like that night with the Doctor; they had hunted this man like prey, waited in the shadows and then pounced. It scared Ianto how little he felt for the man. He didn’t like what they had done, but he thought of Tosh, thought of her cowering in the corner of her apartment crying with her hands over her ears, thought of her in the booth with her legs exposed, the broken window, marred door, her undergarments in his pocket. The thought of what could have happened sickened him.

After dressing, he went to Jack’s office and found him bent over papers at the desk. A half-empty bottle of scotch and an empty glass sat at his elbow.

“A little early for scotch, isn’t it?” Ianto asked, taking the seat across the desk.

Jack looked up from the papers, his eyes and face tired. “Probably.” He pushed the papers away and rubbed his eyes. “I half expected to wake up and see you gone.”

“Why?” Ianto asked, hurt.

“The last time we did something like that, you ran off and disappeared for a couple of days.” Jack looked at him without censure, but Ianto felt guilty anyway. He thought of that night, of seeing Jack kill three people, of Suzy lying dead in the moonlight. He shook his head to clear the vision.

“I’m different now. You needed me.”

Jack sighed. “I’m sorry you – “

“Don’t,” Ianto interrupted. “You don’t need to explain or defend yourself.”

“I still never wanted you to have to help me with that. Those are not the things we should be doing together into the night.”

“Jack, I’m with you, and not just for sex and good times. You can’t protect me from everything.”

“I should; it’s my job.”

Ianto got up and walked around the desk and sat in Jack’s lap. His arms circled Jack’s neck, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape. “You don’t have to shoulder this alone.”

Jack leaned forward and kissed Ianto, softly, tentatively, then lay his head on Ianto’s shoulder for a few moments. Ianto silently ran his fingers through his hair.

“I should get back to work,” Jack finally said. He sat up, and Ianto turned around and picked up a few of the papers.

“Still trying to find a space for your client?”

“Yep. Real estate, very exciting.”

Ianto stood and returned to his chair. He grabbed a stack of building deeds. “I think real estate is exactly what we need today.”

*

A few days later, Ianto left the theater and walked across town to his flat. He hadn’t been there in a few weeks, but it was the first of the month and he needed to pay his rent. Sometimes he wondered why he even kept his own place, but it still didn’t feel right completely moving in with Jack. He wasn’t ready for that yet.

First, he jogged up the three flights and went inside. He looked in his wardrobe for any clothes he might need, but it was mostly empty. All his clothes were at the theater. The same for his records and books. Perhaps he was wasting money by keeping this room when he hadn’t slept there in months, but he had it just in case. He still feared that one day when Jack would tire of him and throw him out. If that happened, he’d have somewhere to go.

Leaving empty handed, he went downstairs to find the building manager. He didn’t recognize Ianto when he opened the door. When he told the manager his flat number, he got out an accounts book and found his name.

“You don’t have nothing due,” the man said.

“That’s impossible,” Ianto argued. “I haven’t paid for this month’s rent yet.”

“That’s what I’m telling ya,” he said, “you’re paid for this month and the next eleven.”

“A year? I’m paid for a year?” Ianto shook his head in disbelief.

“Yep. Good day.” The manager shut the door in Ianto’s face, leaving him standing there, shocked. There was only one explanation.

Ianto hastily made his way back to the theater. He didn’t bother knocking on Jack’s office door; he stormed through and slammed it behind him.

“Ianto!” Jack said, smiling widely, but when he saw Ianto’s face, his expression changed. “What is it?”

“Did you pay my rent for the next year?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” Jack said carefully.

“Why?”

“I was trying to help,” Jack explained slowly. “I didn’t want you to worry about it, especially since you’re never there. It didn’t cost me much, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried about it costing you money,” Ianto shouted. “I have money. You ought to know; you pay me.”

Jack laughed uncomfortably as he pushed the chair back from the desk. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” Ianto said, waving his hand as he turned in a circle.

“Then explain it to me.”

“I can pay my own fucking rent,” Ianto yelled, a flood of emotions surging out of him, out of his mouth. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

“Ianto – “

“Do you know what they all say?” Ianto asked, hand motioning towards the door. “All the time, it’s how I’m fucking the boss. I got my job because I’m fucking you, I sing because I’m fucking you. You hired a busboy because I’m fucking you.” He paced back and forth, fury he couldn’t contain vibrating through his limbs.

“You know none of that is true,” Jack said quietly.

“Of course I know it. But now you’re paying my fucking rent.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.”

“I don’t need you to manage me with the rest of the monthly bills. I’m not a fucking obligation, Jack. I’m your – “ Ianto cut off, unsure what word to use.

“You’re my what?” Jack asked, hurt.

“I’m not a charity case, and I’m not your fucking whore.” Ianto spun around and walked towards the door, flinging it open with so much force it crashed against the wall.

“Ianto!” Jack called after him. “Ianto, for fuck’s sake, come back!”

But Ianto was too furious. Instead, he stormed out of the theater and down the street.

*

He didn’t know how far he walked. He wasn’t even sure where he walked. At one point he was in Greenwich Village, then passed through the Upper East Side, and ended up in Harlem just before dusk. If he was going to be at the bar by 8 to open, he had to start making his way back. Although going back to the Hub was the last thing he wanted to do, he couldn’t just skip out of work. He wouldn’t show Jack that much weakness.

The entire time he walked, he tried to quell his anger. But nothing he thought about made him feel any better. He couldn’t believe that Jack had paid his rent for an entire year. A year! Who knew if they’d even be together in a year?

Owen only took the piss because he was Owen; this Ianto knew. It’s not like anyone had a problem with him and Jack being together, but sometimes it got to him. How could it not? They all asked about Jack and Ianto’s holiday, but were only asking out of grotesque curiosity. They wanted to know about Jack, what his cottage, his car, his romantic advances were like. Ianto felt they were specimens being observed.

The closer he got to the Hub, the tighter the knot in his chest got. He and Jack had never had a proper fight, and Ianto didn’t quite know how to act. He was still furious, and seeing Jack would probably only make it worse. Jack would probably apologize, or try to talk Ianto back from being so angry. Ianto knew that Jack could do that; he was so charming, so slick, that he could talk his way out of anything. But Ianto didn’t want to be talked out of this.

It came down to this: Ianto was hurt and embarrassed. He had been taking care of himself since his father died. And finally, he had a proper job and an income of his own. He didn’t need Jack’s charity. Just because Jack owned what seemed like half of New York and paid everyone from street bums to federal agents for their services didn’t mean he could treat Ianto the same way.

And this had to happen on the heel of those nights with the Doctor, that night with Tosh’s stalker… But perhaps what made it even worse than that was that this all happened right after their three days together. Three days, Ianto thought, that had taken them to a different place in their relationship. But instead he returned home to find that Jack had interfered in his personal business and paid for him like he was unable to, or like he was some whore being paid for services.

By the time Ianto arrived at work, his entire body was taut with tension. He was pretty sure if someone looked at him the wrong way tonight, he would snap.

“Jones,” Owen said, grinning widely. “What’s got you so down on such a nice night?”

“What’s with you?” Ianto asked, ignoring Owen’s attempt to bait him.

“My date with Diane’s tonight,” he explained.

“Right.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I cut out a bit early. She’ll be here soon.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Good.” Owen continued rambling cheerfully, and Ianto would have normally found it disturbing and annoying, but tonight he found it extra so. But he shifted into solider mode, focusing only on his tasks and tuning out everything else.

Jack arrived like usual, fashionably late and filling the room with his laughter. Ianto hated the way his stomach twisted every time he heard Jack’s laugh or caught sight of him dancing from across the room. Ianto felt like he’d been hit by a train; Jack acted like he was having the best night of his life.

That just made Ianto even madder.

When Ianto sang, he poured his frustrations and anger into the dark melodies. The pain channeled through the microphone, filled the dance floor with melancholy ruminations. The couples danced slowly, clinging to each other in desperate attempts to connect with another body. Ianto felt sorry for them, searching so ardently only to be crushed in the end.

He made the mistake of looking towards Jack during one of the numbers. He held his partner close, but stared over her head at Ianto. His eyes bore into Ianto, intense and trying to communicate across the crowd. Ianto felt an urge to leap over the heads of all the dancers and throw himself into Jack’s arms, but he tore his eyes away, feeling like he was tearing something away inside of himself.

After the music ended, he quickly left the stage and returned to the bar. He felt emotionally drained, raw and exposed. No one noticed the candidness of his performance, his entire existence just a pleasant hum in the background. And now he’d continue to fade into the darkness behind the bar, a faceless body to be overlooked. Someone to be kept, taken care of like an incapable, incompetent nobody.

As Ianto was returning from the kitchen with a tray of clean cups, Jack walked in front of him, blocking his way behind the bar.

“Excuse me, sir,” Ianto said, trying to scoot around him. Jack stepped aside so Ianto could deposit the tray on the counter.

“Talk to me, Ianto,” Jack said, sidling close.

“You rarely talk to me at work, I don’t know why you’re talking to me now.”

“Ianto…”

He moved away. “I don’t want to talk.”

“You can’t ignore me forever.” Ianto didn’t say anything, and Jack continued. “I still don’t understand – “

“We are not discussing this here,” Ianto snapped.

“I’m not going to leave this alone.” Jack crossed his arms.

“And you always get your way.” Ianto turned away, took the order of a few patrons. When he glanced over his shoulder, Jack was gone.

Ianto’s hands shook so badly that he splashed gin out of the teacups he was filling. The customers just looked at him as he slid the cups carelessly across the wood. They dropped their money and hurried away.

“Lover’s spat?” Owen asked, moving closer to Ianto when the bar cleared. Ianto dutifully ignored him. But Owen wasn’t so easily deterred. “Jealous that Jack spends so much time with all the flapper whores who’d fuck him in the blink of an eye?” Ianto stared intently at the puddle of gin he wiped up. “Or perhaps your little romantic getaway wasn’t as romantic as you wanted us all to believe.” Ianto turned his head, looked at Owen through narrowed eyes. Owen grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Did you finally realize that you’re nothing but a do boy?”

“I’m much more than that,” Ianto said through gritted teeth. He stepped closer to Owen, less than an inch separating them. “Jack needs me.”

“Maybe in your wettest dreams where you’re his go-to shag,” he retorted.

Ianto inhaled slowly, visibly seething. He didn’t respond immediately, didn’t trust his mouth or his body. The edges of his vision started to flash, the room growing smaller as his blood rushed in his ears. He heard the distant sound of gunshots, smelled dank earth around him. He curled his fist, reached to his hip for his weapon, Owen’s smug expression fueling his confusion. As each silent second passed, Owen’s discomfort grew, and his face began to lose confidence. After Ianto had been staring at him for a few moments, Owen looked a bit frightened and stepped away. “Fucking screwy goon. You’re completely off your fucking nuts!” Owen moved to the very edge of the bar, as far away from Ianto as he could.

And Ianto couldn’t blame him. He held on to the edge of the bar, his entire body trembling, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Taking a few breaths, he looked around him, making sure no one noticed his episode with Owen. Bless the speakeasy crowd, no one paid any attention. Ianto found himself wanting Jack – needing him – and he hated everything in that moment. Jack, Owen, the speakeasy, the noise, the war. He grabbed a teacup from the tray behind him, filled it with whiskey, and down it in one gulp.

*

Ianto didn’t recognize her at first. A dark-haired woman approached the bar, and he asked for her order before realizing it was Diane. She looked completely opposite from the last time; she wore a tight, low-cut red silk evening gown, black opera gloves, and pearls around her neck. Her hair was pinned up in an elegant knot. She was gorgeous.

“Got a light?” she asked Ianto, holding a thin, black cigarette holder between her gloved fingers. Ianto struck a match and lit the tip of her cigarette as she sucked gently on the end of the holder. Owen stood over to the side, glaring at Ianto as Diane still refused to look his way. “Thanks.” Ianto nodded.

“Hi there,” a man said, squeezing in at the bar beside Diane. He smiled at her, touched her arm lightly. Owen looked murderous.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to touch me.” She grabbed his hand and removed it from her arm.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, doll. Lighten up. Maybe a drink will help with that.” He dropped his hand to her waist, sliding his arm around her.

“Last I checked, women were not men’s property to touch and do with what they pleased at their will. Now unless you remove your arm from my person, I shall have to extinguish this here gasper on your eyeball.” She moved the end of her cigarette towards the man’s face. “And I don’t believe these gentlemen behind me would mind at all.”

The man scoffed at her, but hurried away from the bar. Ianto smiled. He liked this woman; too bad she had such lousy taste in men.

“So,” Diane said, turning towards Owen and exhaling a blue stream of smoke, “shall you take me to dinner?”

Owen smiled what Ianto could only determine to be a flirty smile. “Of course, doll.”

“Don’t call me doll,” Diane said as Owen rounded the bar, “but you do have my permission to touch me.”

“With pleasure,” he said, hooking his arm with hers. “Don’t wait up, Jones.”

Since Owen was gone, Ianto had to man the bar alone, and for a Monday, the speakeasy was packed. But that didn’t bother him; he welcomed the distraction. As long as he was busy, as long as he was overwhelmed with orders and a steady string of customers, his mind had no time to think about anything else.

Just after midnight, a commotion started near the poker room. Rhys sprinted to the scuffle, but the sounds increased, so Ianto left the bar and pushed through the crowd to the source. Two men were fighting, Rhys struggling to restrain the larger of the two. But the man squirmed in Rhys’s grasp, causing him to lose his handle. The other of the two men took advantage of the vulnerability and rushed both Rhys and his captive, brandishing a broken bottle. As Ianto bolted towards the man, he wondered where he’d gotten the bottle, and then watched in horror as he failed to intercept him before the bottle landed on the larger man’s shoulder, just shy of shattering on Rhys’s face.

Fury exploded in Ianto, and he leapt across the remaining distance, knocking the man back against the nearby wall. The man’s head hit the wood with a crack, his eyes dazed, and Ianto grabbed his shirt by the collar and slammed him repeatedly into the wall as the edges of his vision grew brighter again.

“No one,” slam, “tries to,” slam, “hurt”, slam, “my,” slam, “friend.” The man gazed at Ianto with unfocused eyes, blood smeared on the wall behind him. Ianto tried to focus, the images confused as the blood roared in his ears.

“Ianto,” a strong voice cut through the haze. He turned and saw Jack right behind him, blue eyes staring down into his. The confusion and fury disappeared, replaced by overwhelming weariness. “Get him out of here,” Jack called behind him. Two speakeasy regulars grabbed the man under the arms and dragged him away. Ianto barely noticed the crowd gathered around as he headed back towards the bar. “Ianto,” Jack said, following him. Ianto ignored him.

“What happened?” Gwen ran up to them, looking beyond to Rhys, who escorted one of the men from the Hub. “Horsefeathers! Ianto, you’re bleeding!”

Ianto glanced down at his arm, lines of blood covering pale skin and dripping onto the floor. “Huh,” he said. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Let me see,” Jack said, reaching out for Ianto’s arm, but he pulled it away before Jack could touch it.

“It’s fine.”

“Ianto, this is no time – “

“I said it’s fine!”

Gwen looked between both of them, unsure what to do. She shared a look with Jack, who turned and stormed away. Ianto went behind the bar and grabbed a towel. He didn’t notice the crowd of people waiting for drinks.

“Ianto, can I take a look?” she said tentatively.

“Hey, I’ve been waiting five minutes for a drink!” someone yelled. “This is the worst service in all of New York.”

Gwen spun around, hand on her hip, and pointed her finger directly in the man’s face. “Oi! The man’s bleeding. If you can’t hold your sorry arse for a couple of minutes, then we’ll just give you the bum’s rush!”

“Need some help?” Ianto looked up at Martha, who just appeared at the edge of the bar. “He looks a little worse for wear. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Gwen said. “I was trying to find out when this piker got his knickers in a twist.” She glared at the man, who had now slunk back into the crowd.

“Take him back to Tosh and clean him up,” Martha said, removing her jacket and rolling up her sleeves. “Can’t do much good if he’s back here bleeding to death.” She pulled a bottle off a shelf and a teacup from the tray. “Who’s first?”

Gwen led Ianto across the crowded dance floor, Ianto pressing the towel to his arm. He felt like he was in a dream, completely disconnected from his body. Gwen’s hand was firm against his back, directing him through the throng of people and up the stairs to Tosh’s dressing room. She looked up from her vanity when they entered, where she was removing her makeup.

“Applesauce!” she exclaimed, shooting up from her stool and rushing to Ianto’s side. “What happened?”

“Yeah, Ianto, what did happen?” They sat him on the sofa, and he pulled the towel away from his arm.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Rhys was breaking up a fight, and I saw a bottle go flying at him, and the next thing I remember is Jack having the man dragged away.” He lifted his arm to his face and inspected it. A gash extended along his forearm. He touched it, felt a light wave of pain, and then examined it closer. “I must have cut myself on the bottle.”

Rhys, followed closely by Jack, entered the dressing room through the secret passage. Ianto looked up and sighed.

“Are you okay?” Rhys asked. Gwen ran to him and threw her arms around him.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“I’m fine, doll.” He kissed her forehead quickly. He pointed at Ianto and stepped closer. “That doesn’t look fine.”

“Looks worse than it is.” Ianto covered it with a towel.

“Where’s Owen?” Jack asked from the corner. Ianto looked at him coolly.

“I don’t need a doctor, Jack. It’s a scratch.”

“I still think – “

“No. He’s out with Diane. I’m fine,” Ianto insisted. “He deserves to have his fun away from here.”

Jack exhaled loudly, his mouth a thin line. “Fine. But he’s checking it out tomorrow.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

Tosh, Gwen, and Rhys looked between them uncomfortably. Finally, Tosh stood up, went over to the sink, and ran some water over a fresh towel. “Here,” she said, handing it to Ianto, “clean the blood from your arm. It’s really bothering me.”

Ianto did as instructed. He let everyone inspect it after he’d cleaned it, and finally, they consented and let him bandage it and go back to work. He went back into the Hub, not looking at Jack as he passed him.

*

Martha helped him at the bar for the rest of the night. She was actually quite good, even if few of the patrons were scandalized by being served by a female bartender. Martha just told them to fuck off and find a new speakeasy if they didn’t like it.

Gwen stayed close to Ianto all night, watching him like a mother hen. Ianto found it both touching and obnoxious. She left with Rhys after Rhys had secured all the doors and checked for any stragglers. Pushing through the kitchen door, Ianto found Mickey at the sink, washing a pile of dishes.

“Go home, Mickey,” he said.

“But the dishes – “

Ianto held up his hand. “I’ve got it. Go home, get some rest. I don’t mind.”

Mickey grinned and ran towards Ianto to shake his hand. “Thanks, Ianto! I got a doll waiting, and I know she’s gonna be pleased to find me home early!” He hurried out, leaving Ianto alone. Ianto sighed, looked around, and then walked to the sink.

Slowly, he washed the remaining dishes, taking care not to get his wound wet. It throbbed a bit, but he was being truthful when he’d told everyone that it wasn’t that bad. It had just broken the skin, the blood probably more from the surface thin skin than anything. He’d had worse injuries – much worse.

He finished the dishes around three thirty. His entire body was drained; he just wanted to go to bed and pass out. He stood in the middle of the Hub, trying to decide. Did he go upstairs to Jack? His body ached for Jack, wanted him, but he was still angry and hurt. And he knew that Jack would want to talk if he went upstairs, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. So, he left the Hub through the rear exit and headed towards his flat.

Inside, he stripped down to his underwear and then sat at his rickety kitchen table, cleaning his wound. Then, with strips of cloth from an old undershirt, he wrapped it. He’d ask Owen for some salve tomorrow, because the last thing he needed was yet another scar.

Just as he laid down, he heard a knock on the door. His eyes flew open, heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t need to look at the clock to see what time it was; there was only one person who’d be at his door at this time of night.

Closing his eyes, he tuned out the incessant knocking, but it persisted. “Ianto,” Jack yelled. “Open the door.” He paused, then started the pounding again. “I’ll break it down if I have to.”

Ianto jumped out of bed and quickly crossed the room, yanking the door open. “Can’t you take a hint? I want to be alone tonight.”

“Don’t care.” Jack started through the doorway.

Ianto reluctantly stood back, holding open the door and sweeping his arm in front of Jack. “Yes, please, come in. It’s not like you own the place. Oh wait. You do now, don’t you?”

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jack snapped, turning just inside the flat, his coat billowing behind him.

“Now I’m being ridiculous. Thank you so much for your valued insight.”

“Can we talk?” Jack started pacing and ran a hand through his hair. “And without all the quips?”

“Fine.” Ianto slammed the door and sat down in a kitchen chair. “Talk.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Jack asked, staring down at Ianto. He looked haggard, his shoulders slouched, deep lines etched in his face. He paced back and forth, his hands unable to remain still. He removed his coat and slung it over the back of a chair. Finally, he looked back at Ianto. “Please talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Jack dropped into an adjacent chair. “The truth. Anything. Just talk.”

Ianto tried to think of what to say, but no words seemed appropriate. “I really didn’t want to do this tonight,” he started. “But you just can’t respect people’s wishes, can you? Always have to have your way, no matter how it makes everyone else feel.”

“That’s not fair, Ianto.”

“Do you really want to talk about fairness? How is it fair that I continuously told you tonight that I didn’t want to talk, but here you are? How is it fair that you pay my bills without even asking me, like I’m some urchin from the street with no money?”

“That’s not it at all, Ianto. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“The hell I am!” Ianto stood up so suddenly he knocked over his chair. “I can take care of myself!”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Jack said gently.

“Then why are you treating me like I can’t?”

“I’m not!” Jack stood up, stepped towards Ianto and tried to touch his arm. Ianto slapped it away. “Why are you still acting like this? A few hours, I get that. But there’s no sense in you still being mad at me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Why do you always have to do that? Of course nothing is your fault, never is, is it?”

“I’m at fault plenty.”

Ianto seized Jack, grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the wall, knocking the breath from him. Jack watched Ianto with wide, shocked eyes as Ianto pinned him against the wall, shaking hands clutching blue fabric. “Then why does it always feel like I’m the one fucking up?” He pushed Jack into the wall again, his face so close he could feel Jack’s warm, ragged breath.

“Ianto, why don’t you tell me what you’re really angry about?” Jack’s eyes stared hard into Ianto’s.

Ianto curled his fists tighter around Jack’s shirt, pressing him roughly against the wall. “I don’t fucking know,” he said through gritted teeth. “Why do you always have to take care of everyone? I’ve always taken care of myself, and I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I know you don’t need me to take care of you,” Jack said, voice dangerously low, “but I want to. I fucking love you and I don’t want you to have to worry about another goddamn thing as long as you live. But rest a-fucking-ssured, I’ll never do another bloody thing for you as long as I live.” Jack’s eyes were near slits, his expression colder than Ianto had ever seen it when aimed at him. His breathing came in heavy gasps, his chest bumping against Ianto’s every time he inhaled.

Ianto slammed him back into the wall again then covered his mouth with his own, his lips attacking Jack’s with repressed urgency. Jack’s mouth responded roughly, his tongue delving into Ianto’s mouth and teeth pressing almost painfully against his lips. “Fuck you,” Ianto growled against Jack’s mouth; Jack raked his teeth along Ianto’s jaw, then bit the side of his neck. “I never wanted another person in my life, and now I fucking need you.” Jack bit the same place even harder, and Ianto grabbed Jack’s face roughly between his hands and jerked his face up so he could look into his eyes. “I fucking hate you for making me need you.”

Jack kissed him again, lipstongueteeth, and then flipped around so Ianto was pushed chest first against the wall. Jack pressed flush against Ianto, and Ianto felt Jack’s hard cock press against his hip. “Fuck you for not trusting me,” Jack growled, then pulled the lobe of Ianto’s ear between his teeth as he reached around and shoved his hand inside Ianto’s pants and grabbed his cock, causing Ianto to moan loudly. “I’ll never fucking stop needing you.” Ianto craned his neck over his shoulder to reclaim Jack’s waiting mouth as Jack ground his erection into Ianto’s ass. Suddenly, Jack pulled away, then reached down to yank Ianto’s pants to his knees.

Ianto braced himself, palms flat against the cool wall, and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was wound tight, ready to snap at any moment, and he felt so confused. He was angry and hurt, but he needed him, wanted him, ached for him. He felt Jack moving behind him, then felt Jack’s knee between his thighs, forcing them wider before Jack thrust inside him, his cock slicked and ready. Ianto’s breath hitched in his throat with a burst of pain, but then Jack was fully inside him and he whispered, “Breathe, Ianto,” and Ianto did. His body relaxed and yielded, and Jack slid back out and thrust in again, his body readily and eagerly accepting Jack now as he drove in and out of him.

Ianto couldn’t stop the sounds from escaping his lips, his need and desire for Jack culminating in his constant moans above the wet slap of their bodies. Jack gripped his hips roughly, fingertips digging into his flesh, and Ianto ached in every pore of his body. Jack’s cock filling him wasn’t enough; he wanted to crawl inside of Jack until they were one entity. He reached down and covered one of Jack’s hands with his own, and Jack loosened his grip on Ianto’s hip to intertwine their fingers.

“Fucking need you, Ianto Jones,” Jack breathed into Ianto’s ear, his thrusts coming faster and harder, “fucking love you.” Jack grabbed Ianto’s cock and gripped it tightly, his hand sliding quickly, and then Ianto tensed and came. Jack thrust a few more times, then wrapped his arm around Ianto’s waist, holding him close as he came.

Arm still wrapped securely around Ianto, Jack moved and pressed his back against the wall, sliding to the floor and dragging Ianto down with him. They were a messy heap, Ianto sitting in Jack’s lap, Jack’s softing cock still inside him, as Ianto tried to come down from the emotions surging through his veins. Jack was the first to move, rolled them over so they could lay comfortably side by side. Ianto felt empty without Jack inside him, so he curled closer against him.

They lay silently on the floor for awhile, Jack running his hands through Ianto’s hair. Ianto felt like he’d been split in two. The entire day had been too long, with too many bad turns. He lifted his arm and looked at where he’d gotten cut, the makeshift bandage disappearing sometime since Jack showed up. Jack grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm close to his face, and this time, Ianto didn’t try to stop him from inspecting it. After a few moments, Jack lowered Ianto’s arm and kissed the scrape.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes. It barely broke the surface.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Jack said, dropping his head to the side to look at Ianto. “I paid the building manager because I didn’t want you to waste your money on a flat you never slept in. And since you won’t officially move in with me, I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

Ianto sighed, fatigue settling into his limbs. “No one has ever done anything for me. I’ve had to take care of myself and my family as long as I can remember.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your pride,” Jack said, lifting Ianto’s hand and kissing it as he slid their fingers together. “Or embarrass you, or anything like that. But we do need to get a few things straight.” Jack rolled to his side, propped his head up in his hand. Ianto felt uncomfortable with Jack looking down at him like that, so he mirrored him. “I don’t think you incapable – “

“Jack, I know.”

“Hush. I need to say this,” he said, face stern. “You’re one of the most capable people I’ve ever known. When I asked you to work for me, it wasn’t because I wanted to sleep with you. I don’t make a habit of sleeping with people I work with. I also don’t make it a habit to hire people to work with my personal, private business.” He reached out and ran a hand along Ianto’s cheek. “Sometimes you’re scary capable; you’re better at my job than I am.” He smiled softly. “You could probably run the Hub by yourself. You can do anything I ask you: bartend, shipments, real estate, security, protection – anything.” Jack slid his thumb just under Ianto’s eye. “And you make a wonderful cup of coffee.”

“Thank you.”

“I also don’t think you’re a charity case. I know how much money I pay you, and I know how much you spend. You can easily pay your rent, but since I’m the one keeping you from the flat you’re not staying in, I wanted to take care of it. But you’re not the only one I’ve done this for. I’ve done the same thing for Owen, Tosh, and Gwen and Rhys. Hell, even Owen has helped me out in the past. I didn’t always have as much money as I do now.” Jack slid his fingers along Ianto’s neck, then curled them around the nape, fingers playing with his hair. “And you’re not my fucking whore. I never - never - want to hear you say that again.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. Do you really feel that way?”

Ianto shook his head, Jack’s fingers sending shivers down his spine. “No, not really. Sometimes Owen – “

“Fuck Owen. He’s just like that. I thought you’d have already figured that out by now. Ignore him. I do. He’s said much uglier things to me, and recently.”

Ianto turned his head and kissed the inside of Jack’s wrist. “I don’t like to feel out of control,” Ianto explained. “I don’t want anyone in control of my life ever again. When my father died, I had no control over what happened to my family. When I got arrested, I lost control over my decisions, and in the army…I had no control of my life. When the bomb hit and Lisa – “ Jack covered Ianto’s mouth with his hand.

“You don’t have to relive all of this all the time.”

“But it’s the truth. I finally feel like I have control over my life, and it felt like you’d taken that away. And right after the docks and the alley, and after we’d gotten back from upstate where everything was perfect, and I was so angry at you and then I was angry at Owen, and things got confused and I heard gunshots and thought I was back in the trenches and I don’t even remember roughing up that guy tonight.”

“Oh Ianto,” Jack leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“I hadn’t lost control like that in a long time, lost control over my own reality, and then I was even madder at you.”

“Do you really hate me because you need me?”

“Sometimes.” He looked at Jack sadly.

“I’m not going to leave you. You won’t lose me, too.”

Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack, hoping that it was true.

*

The train ride to Belmont Park would only take an hour, but almost as soon as the car started rolling away from the station, Ianto began to doze. He was glad Jack sprang for the private car, because he could lean against Jack as he slept without any problems. As soon as his eyes closed, he laid his head on Jack’s shoulder, and Jack wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. Jack’s fingers played with his hair as he talked with Martha and Tosh. With his ear pressed against Jack’s chest, he could hear his voice vibrating from deep with his chest, the sound reverberating in his ear.

By the time they had returned to the theater earlier, it had been after five. Ianto had fallen asleep on the floor, and Jack had woken him up, helped him put on clothes and stumble downstairs, and held him up as they waited on a taxi. As soon as they were in the taxi, Ianto had leaned against Jack and slept until Jack woke him up again and walked up to the flat with his arm around him.

“We’re here, sleepyhead,” Jack murmured into his ear. Ianto blinked awake, saw Tosh and Martha grinning at him from across the compartment. He straightened up, stretched, then rubbed his eyes.

“So cute when he sleeps,” Martha said. “Like a little kid.” Ianto raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

They met Gwen and Rhys outside on the platform. They’d spent the ride in the dining car, because Rhys wanted to get his (or rather, Jack’s) money’s worth.

“This is so exciting!” Gwen exclaimed, looking around at the crowd of people making their way towards the entrance to Belmont Park. “I’ve never been to a horse race before!” Ianto thought she looked nice today. Her dress was modest – for Gwen – plain, stopping just at the knees, and sleeveless. For maybe the first time, Ianto saw her without something in her hair.

Actually, all the women looked lovely. Tosh had on a tasteful and sophisticated blue day dress with a matching hat, while Martha wore a burgundy cotton sleeveless dress. When Ianto had first seen Martha at the theater, he’d barely recognized her in the different clothes. He’d grown quite fond of her in her suits. He himself wore a casual dark suit, while Rhys wore linen pants and a light shirt, and Jack, as always, wore his usual attire.

“You just have to make sure to place at least one bet,” Jack said, taking Tosh’s arm and leading her towards the entrance. Ianto held his arm out for Martha, who hooked hers through with a wide smile.

“I’m not sure I know how to choose a winner,” Tosh admitted.

“You can just point and choose,” Rhys said.

“This is why my husband doesn’t gamble,” Gwen said, squeezing his arm.

“He’s not altogether wrong,” Jack said. “The odds definitely help, but sometimes, it’s dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck explains how Rhys landed Gwen,” Ianto teased from behind them. Gwen laughed and Rhys attempted to look mad.

“What’s your choice, Ianto?” Martha asked after they were inside. She paused to look at the names of the horses written on the board.

“I’ve only been here once before,” he admitted, “when I first started. Jack brought me and made me place bets for him.”

“Did he win?”

“It’s Jack – what do you think?”

“How much do you think he’ll make today?” she asked. Ianto shrugged. “I bet you five dollars that he makes double the rest of us.”

Ianto looked down at her, a wicked gleam in her eye. “I’ll take that bet, except I think that he’ll make three times what we do.”

Martha spit in her hand and held it out for him. “It’s a bet.”

He looked at it uncomfortably before shaking it. “That’s not very ladylike.”

“Like I care.” She smiled widely and threw her head back and laughed. A few passersby glanced at her, looked at the two of them together, and started whispering with horrified wide eyes. Ianto felt embarrassed, but Martha just waved.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked, nodding towards the ladies.

“What? Two old hens talking about me?” She shook her head. “Not in the slightest. Ianto, I’m a black woman interested in other women who dresses like a man. Everything about me is wrong according to their standards, so why should I care? I think being an uptight, white socialite who has to fuck an uninterested man for the rest of her life sounds wrong.”

“I think I may love you, Martha Jones,” he said, leaning down and kissing her cheek. The two women hurried away, stealing glances over their shoulders as they did. He would have been more worried about someone roughing him up for being with a black woman, but he’d gotten over that long ago with Lisa. And any bigot would get more than he bargained for in Ianto, Jack, and Rhys.

“Won’t Captain Harkness be a bit scandalized to find his man is in love with someone else?” Martha moved them to stand in the betting line. Gwen and Rhys were still arguing over what to bet on, and Jack and Tosh had already placed their bets and Jack was currently buying her a lemonade.

“He’ll live.”

“Two hundred on Mad Hatter to win.” Martha laid down the cash, and the man behind the counter looked at her for a moment.

“Are you positive, ma’am?”

“Absolutely.” He handed her a slip of paper as Ianto raked his eyes over the names and odds, trying to decide.

“And for you, sir?”

“One hundred on Moonbeam to show,” he declared.

“Chicken.”

He looked down at Martha, her eyebrow raised, mouth slightly open and mocking. “What?”

“Only a hundred? And to show? I expected more from you.”

“Fine.” He reluctantly pulled another hundred from his pocket. “Two hundred on Moonbeam. To win.” He had never spent two hundred dollars on anything - anything - in his life. He tried not to think about all that those two thin bills could buy. With a pang, he realized how much his involvement with Jack and the speakeasy had changed him.

The man behind the glass shook his head, but handed him a ticket. Ianto pocketed it as they joined Jack and Tosh. Jack handed Ianto a lemonade.

“What did you choose?” he asked.

“Two hundred on Moonbeam to win.”

“Two hundred?” Jack exclaimed, surprised. “I never thought I would see you part with that much money.”

“I think I can afford it,” Ianto snapped before he could stop himself. He noticed Jack’s stance and expression change automatically, but he didn’t respond. Ianto mentally kicked himself; he was still a bit sensitive about the money issue. Trying to recover a bit, he added with a nod towards Martha, “It’s all this one’s fault.”

Martha put her hands up. “I did nothing…except perhaps point out that after my bet of two hundred, it was a bit cowardly for my male escort not to match that sum.”

“You minx,” Jack said, grinning widely and winking as if the tense moment hadn’t happened. “I like that quality in a woman.”

“What about you, Tosh? What did you choose?” Martha easily took Tosh’s cup of lemonade and sipped.

“I put fifty, also on Moonbeam. To place.” She smiled at Ianto. “Let’s hope we chose a winner.”

“Well, Jack, that leaves you. Which losing horse did you choose?” Martha asked, returning the cup to Tosh .

“You mean, which winning horse. One thousand on Golden Age to win.”

Ianto’s mouth dropped open. “One thousand dollars? Are you mad?” Jack shook his head. “He hasn’t won a race yet.”

Jack shrugged. “I’m feeling lucky.”

“Smug bastard,” Ianto muttered as Martha led him away.

*

Horse racing was exciting. The longer Ianto watched, the more he got into it. The horses ran so fast, their hooves not appearing to touch the ground. He found himself cheering and standing despite himself. Their seats were in a private section, right at the front. Somehow, Jack had some of the best seats in the entire horse park. Ianto was sitting between Jack and Tosh, Martha on her other side. Gwen and Rhys sat beside Jack.

Not long after they arrived, Gwen pointed down to the pedestrian walkway. “Isn’t that Owen?” They all looked below to where Gwen pointed. Owen had his head lifted, hand over his eyes as he scanned the crowd. At his side, looking stunning as usual, was Diane. “Is that Diane with him?”

As Jack waved to them, Ianto felt Tosh stiffen beside him, and he dropped his hand to hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze. She looked over at Ianto and smiled sadly. He kissed her cheek.

“He graces us with his presence!” Jack exclaimed, standing as Owen and Diane walked into the box. He stepped past Gwen and Rhys and took Diane’s hand. “You must be Diane.” He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on her knuckles. “Owen’s description did nothing for your beauty.”

Ianto watched in amazement as Diane seemingly melted under Jack’s gaze. Not even Diane, who scorned every man, could resist Jack. For some reason, that really annoyed Ianto. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the races as Jack returned to his seat.

“Moonbeam’s racing next!” Tosh said, twisting the program nervously in her gloved hands.

Ianto leaned forward, gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white. The noise of the crowd was a distant hum as he focused on the horses and jockeys in their stalls, anxiously waiting. Then the shot fired, echoing through the park as the horses darted onto the track. Moonbeam was in third, and he heard Tosh squeak beside him. “Come on, come on,” Ianto muttered, his eyes never leaving the horse. Jack’s hand dropped to his thigh and squeezed encouragingly. Warmth spread upward from where Jack’s palm remained, and he tried to ignore it as Moonbeam overtook the second place horse.

“Applesauce! Go Moonbeam!” Tosh exclaimed beside him, clapping excitedly.

Ianto watched in horror as the first place horse widened his lead, and near the finish line, but Moonbeam increased speed and crossed the finish line first by mere centimeters. Ianto jumped up and yelled, his fist pumping the air. He turned to Tosh, also standing and cheering, and threw his arms around her.

“We won!” She beamed at him.

“See, you should be thanking me,” Martha said as he dropped back into his chair. “I think part of your winnings belongs to me.”

“You wish,” he teased, grin wide.

Jack replaced his hand on Ianto’s knee and squeezed. “Congrats,” he said in Ianto’s ear. Ianto turned, his face extremely close to Jack’s, warm breath against his skin when Jack breathed.

“Thanks,” he answered, smiling. They stared at each other for a few heavy moments, and Ianto saw the same desire reflected in Jack’s eyes. His lips were so close, Jack drawing his closer like a magnet. Reluctantly, Ianto forced himself away with a sigh.

Martha and Jack’s horses lost, and although Martha was distraught, Jack didn’t seem bothered. When Ianto asked about it, Jack just shrugged and circled the winning horse on his program.

After they’d been there for a bit, Tosh pulled a fan from her handbag and began fanning herself. “The sun is rather hot,” she said as she adjusted her hat.

“Do you want me to go buy you a lemonade?” Ianto asked. She nodded with a grateful smile. When he stood up, Jack followed him.

“I’ll help.” They slowly walked towards the refreshment stand, so close that their hands kept brushing. “Congrats on winning,” Jack repeated.

“I’m a bit shocked honestly. I just chose the horse because it had decent odds.”

“I bet you’re glad you didn’t lose your two hundred dollars,” Jack teased, gently nudging Ianto in the ribs with his elbow. “I bet you’ve been obsessing about throwing that much money away since Martha persuaded you into it.”

Ianto tried his best to glare. “I wasn’t happy about it, no.”

“Sometimes Ianto, you just have to let loose and have a bit of fun. Take a chance, take a gamble on something.”

“I do let loose and have fun,” he argued, stopping in front of the stand, “but I also have to be responsible. Not all of us have thousands of dollars to throw away on a whim.” Before Jack could answer, he turned towards the attendant and ordered eight lemonades.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I got this, Ianto.”

“I think I can afford to buy lemonades,” Ianto snapped.

“If that’s what you want.” Jack stepped back and crossed his arms as he waited. Ianto sighed and rubbed his eyes. He blamed his irritation on the heat and his lack of sleep. He handed Jack one of the trays of lemonades, then grabbed the other himself as they silently returned to the box.

At the end of the day, Jack walked with Ianto and Tosh to the bookkeeper to collect their winnings. Diane had also won, much to Owen’s chagrin since he lost. Gwen and Rhys also lost, and Rhys spent thirty minutes swearing rather colorfully and raging about how the races were fixed for ordinary blokes like himself. Gwen had just slunk down in her chair, embarrassed.

After Ianto handed the bookkeeper his ticket, he watched in wonder as the man slid a wad of cash through the window. He almost felt guilty; making this money had been easier than it’d ever been to steal anything, and much more lucrative. He wasn’t sure he’d ever held this much money at one time (that didn’t belong to Jack, that is).

“Makes you want to do it again, doesn’t it?” Jack said quietly in his ear as Tosh collected her money.

“Almost,” Ianto said, still gazing at the money. “But I’d never be this lucky again. It was a fluke.” He pocketed the money and smiled. “I’ll leave the gambling to you.”

As they walked away, the bookkeeper yelled, “Mr. Harkness?” Jack turned around, and the man slid a large envelope through the hole. “Your payout.”

“Thank you.” Jack quickly took the envelope and began walking away.

“Payout?” Ianto asked, catching up with him. “I thought you lost.”

“I did,” Jack said evasively.

“Then what’s that?”

He glanced over at Ianto. “It wasn’t the only bet I made.”

“What else did you bet on?”

Looking ahead, he answered, “I placed a trifecta bet. And I won.”

Ianto stopped and stared at Jack’s back as he continued walking. A trifecta bet. If he’d bet a thousand like he had on the other horse…Ianto’s brain hurt at the possibility. Jack probably easily made ten times that.

“What’d he win?” Martha asked him as she came up beside him. “Which one of us won the bet?”

“Neither,” Ianto said. “He made much more than we anticipated.” Martha ran to catch up with Jack, excited and demanding to know more. Ianto shuffled slowly behind, hands stuffed into his pockets. Of course Jack won huge; why wouldn’t he? He seemed to always win, always outshine everyone else.

The money in Ianto’s pocket didn’t feel so impressive anymore.

*

He had almost put away all the cups that Mickey had washed and left on the counter. Mickey finished his work not long ago, the floors swept and mopped and the dirty dishes clean. Ianto could probably have gone upstairs an hour ago, but he was dragging his feet, doing work he could easily do before opening the next day, and he knew exactly why.

Slowly, he toweled the next teacup, wiping every trace of water from the ivory glass. Finished cups were all aligned perfectly on the shelf, the same amount of space between each rim, each row identically lined up in the cabinets. The clear, unmarked bottles of alcohol were arranged along the back wall, arranged by type and amount remaining in the bottle.

The scratch of the needle dropping onto the record broke the silence in the Hub, and then the soft brass melody floated slowly into the room. Ianto didn’t turn; he finished drying the cup and set it meticulously in the remaining open spot in the cabinet.

Light fingers wrapped around his wrist, and Ianto started at the contact. Relaxing, he looked up as Jack ambled backwards, leading him onto the dance floor. He didn’t say a word or smile as he held onto Ianto’s wrist, his eyes unwavering as they held Ianto’s gaze. Jack stopped in the center of the dark room, slid his hand into Ianto’s and lifted them shoulder height as he wrapped his other arm around Ianto’s waist. Ianto fell easily into Jack’s embrace, his free hand curling into Jack’s shoulder. Then Jack stepped to the side and they were dancing.

The rhythm was slow and unhurried, the song a simmering combination of trumpets and percussion. Ianto sighed and let himself melt against Jack as Jack’s strong arms held him tight. His body was warm and solid against his own, Jack’s breathing a constant reminder against his ear that this was all real, Jack was real.

They shuffled back and forth, Jack attempting to keep some semblance of time with the music, but each man more interested in the other than the beat of the tempo. Ianto pressed his cheek against Jack’s, light stubble brushing against his skin, so close that he could hear when Jack swallowed against his ear. Shifting his hand, Jack lined their palms flat against one another, then slid his fingers between Ianto’s as he intertwined them. He squeezed Ianto’s hand and held it closer to his body.

The longer they danced, the closer they drifted towards one another. Ianto wondered if there was a way to move even closer to Jack, still feeling too far away with their entire bodies flush. Jack’s warmth radiated into his skin, his heartbeat faint against Ianto’s chest. He turned his face to the side and rubbed his nose along Jack’s soft hair, breathing in the scent, a mixture of soap and something woodsy, and all so entirely Jack. Inhaling caused Ianto’s stomach to lurch, his body and soul needing Jack more than it should.

In that moment, Ianto missed Jack more than he realized. He was standing there, holding Ianto in his arms, but Ianto felt like they had been apart for ages. His heart ached. Part of him was still hurt because of the money, and he wondered if that was something he’d ever learn to accept. But it was more than that causing the dull pain; he glimpsed a life where he and Jack grow apart, leave one another and move on. A nightmare.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, he wrenched his hand from Jack’s and wrapped his arms around his neck, somehow pulling Jack even closer. Jack’s arms easily wrapped around his waist, holding him fast and sure. Ianto nuzzled his face against Jack’s neck, running his nose against the soft skin, his senses overcome by Jack’s scent and warmth. Jack tilted his head and kissed Ianto’s forehead, and Ianto placed a kiss against the throbbing pulse point of Jack’s neck.

Hugging him tighter, Jack shifted from foot to foot, turning them in a circle as they continued to dance.

*

The horses raced around the track, then one by one fell dead into the wet, dank mud. The echo of gunshots still vibrated in the air, and Ianto looked down to see his own hands holding the gun. It burned hot in his hands. Jack stood down on the ground, looking up at him. Accusing.

Ianto shook his head, shouting that it wasn’t him, but nothing came out. Jack turned away, and throwing down the rifle, Ianto ran down onto the track, after Jack, still shouting despite his silence. As he reached out to grab Jack, he heard another gunshot, and then Jack turned around, his chest opening into a dark red hole.

“You,” Jack said, then dropped to his knees as blood soaked the ground around him.

“No, Jack!” Ianto yelled, coughing as he leaned over and gagged. A hand was immediately on his back, rubbing soothing circles.

“Ianto,” Jack said, voice heavy with sleep, “I’m right here.”

Ianto inhaled, the coughing subsiding as his stomach settled. He sat up, wiping his face with trembling fingers as he shook the dream from his mind. “Just a dream,” Ianto murmured to himself, sighing. He looked down at his throbbing hands, expecting to see blisters.

“Just a dream,” Jack repeated right beside his ear. Ianto cut his eyes to the side, saw Jack sitting up beside him. He was rubbing his eyes sleepily, his hair sticking up at odd angles. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed, kicked the blankets off. “Just a bit hot.”

Without hesitation, Jack got out of bed and walked towards the balcony doors. Ianto watched his naked body in the dim light as he gracefully crossed the room, the stark contours of his long, lean limbs shifting fluidly as he moved. He couldn’t remember what it’d been like before, to wake up alone, without Jack there to anchor him back into reality.

Jack opened the doors and soft orange light from the streetlamps seeped into the room. “Better?” he asked, turning towards Ianto. His body was in partial shadow, the orange light glowing gold against his bare skin. He looked unreal, larger than life, a phantasm Ianto created from the nothingness around him. In that moment, with Jack’s easy confidence as he stood unabashedly naked, his body a dark silhouette in the creeping light, Ianto wondered if there was another person alive who could be as in love with anyone as he was in love with Jack.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. Even in the dark, Ianto could see the smile on Jack’s face as he crawled back into bed.

Ianto tried to fall back asleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his dream and their fight. They’d made up, he guessed. They had danced a long time, not speaking a word, just holding one another. When they’d come upstairs, they’d had sex and fallen asleep together, but something still felt off for Ianto. He tried to lie still so as not to keep Jack up, but after awhile he realized Jack wasn’t asleep either. His breathing was different, louder, more uneven than when he slept.

Ianto opened his eyes and stared straight into Jack’s blue ones from across the pillow. They stared at each other in the dark room, the blue-black shadows from the window splaying random patterns across Jack’s skin, quiet sounds from the sleeping city drifting from the open doors.

“Are we okay?” Ianto whispered. He felt talking any louder would disturb them somehow.

“I hope so. Are you okay?” Jack whispered back.

“I think I’m a bit overwhelmed,” Ianto answered. “Lately, I’ve been trying to figure everything out.” His whisper sounded hollow in the silent room. “I don’t think I’ve been doing a very good job.”

“I think you’re doing fine.” Jack reached out and squeezed Ianto’s bicep, running his finger along the curve in the muscle. “There’s no right or wrong way.”

“Everyone else seems to do such a better job than me,” he whispered, then sighed.

“You’re learning to handle everything your way,” Jack whispered, “and that’s why I love you and not everyone else.”

“Even when we’re fighting?”

“Especially when we’re fighting.”

Ianto smiled and closed his eyes.

*

The Hub was almost dead, even for a Wednesday night. There were at the most twenty people inside, and that was being generous. Owen had started a poker game with a couple of regulars, and Rhys had joined after Jack had told him that he’d get Mickey to watch the door. Jack had spent most of the night at the bar with Ianto, drinking all the coffee Ianto had brewed for himself and shamelessly flirting with him, not that Ianto minded. Tosh used the small audience to try out a few new numbers, and Gwen had started her own female-only poker game at one of the tables on the edge of the dance floor.

When it was Ianto’s turn to sing, Jack spun around on the stool and watched him closely, making lewd motions and fucking him with his eyes until Ianto lost his concentration and missed an entire bar of the song he was singing. No one noticed, and Ianto just laughed and kept going.

In the middle of his set, Jack’s attention drifted towards the door and his face fell, his body rigid. Still singing, Ianto glanced over to the door where Mickey sat on a stool. A tall, thin man with glasses, a fedora, and a raccoon coat stood just inside, a pretty blonde flapper in a pink dress with a long cigarette holder between her fingers on his arm. The man looked directly at Jack. Jack nodded his head slightly, his shoulders tense. It didn’t take long for Ianto to put it together.

Ten had finally arrived.

-fin