Author's Notes: Exactly what it says on the tin. This is going to have five chapters – apparently – and I can promise you an end that will still stick to the pairing and be pleasurable to the reader's eye. The text in the beginning is from The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe.

It's going to include more characters as more chapters are written but, since that's the main pairing, that's how I'm going to leave it.

I hope you like it and, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken
Leave my loneliness unbroken, quit the bust above my door
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Jack remembered the birds they'd had back on his home planet. They'd called them Khtaii and they had been the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. His mother had always warned him not to touch them, but he'd been unable to keep his eyes off them.

So one day, when he'd been alone outside, Jack had seen one of them on the beach, just twenty feet away from him. It had been looking at him with one of its big blue eyes, its red beak longer than his forearm and its bright yellow feathers ruffled by the wind just slightly, without marring its perfection. Jack had approached it and tentatively outstretched an arm towards the bird, and it hadn't moved, so his courage had grown. He'd started stroking the Khtaii's head and the bird's eyes had closed blissfully. Jack had smiled and, bolder than before, had inched closer as he'd kept petting it.

Which, much to his misfortune, had made it spin around and bite him to the bone.

His mother had told him, when he'd ran to her crying with blood dripping down his hand, that the Khtaii fed on meat – any meat – and that their bright colours were meant to be a warning. A warning for the other creatures out there that there was danger coming, and Jack had been unable not to admire the sheer cleverness of it – not because of the warning but because it worked in a completely different way than the one it was supposed to, and he felt as if the birds knew it. Because really, warning or not, who could resist such beauty?

He remembered it now as he watched Ianto pour him tea in cups made of porcelain finer than anything he'd ever seen and he realised that the bird analogy was sadly accurate as the man sat opposite of him, wide blue eyes inquisitive as always, lips red as his blood and skin paler than the moon. He looked like a creature from another world and the Captain couldn't look away, no matter how much he tried to force himself into it.

Ianto's flat was, Jack had noticed since the first time he'd came here, overtaken by eccentric and yet tasteful luxury. Of course, by the way he dressed and acted Jack had supposed that he was a bit of a sucker for Victorian times, and everything around them only confirmed it. Which also meant that he was far richer than the Captain had realised.

"So –" He coughed, desperately trying to find a topic for conversation. "Was this place given to you by your father?"

They were four weeks into Ianto's suspension and he was supposed to come back to work tomorrow. Emphasis on 'supposed'. The Captain wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

He'd gone through the records of Ianto's sister, though, and he knew that she wasn't nearly as well off as he apparently was, so curiosity got the better of him.

Ianto laughed mirthlessly. "All my father had to give was a house in the estates and Rhiannon lives there – he bloody hated me. This," he gestured around himself, "all comes from my mother. Her family was quite wealthy and she willed it all to me to have as soon as I turn eighteen."

As far as Jack knew, Ianto's mother had died when he'd been twelve. He'd seen her in a photo, of course, and he could understand the strange look the young man had suddenly adopted. She'd been a beautiful woman and – as far as he could tell from her biography – a kind one as well. He hadn't researched any further, but he couldn't see why Ianto would be lying – even if he'd got the money illegally from somewhere else, it wasn't like anyone in Torchwood would care too much about it.

And plus, the luxury seemed to be something natural for his youngest employee. Ianto was sitting in the chair opposite from him, eyes half-lidded as he sipped his tea wordlessly. He was more relaxed around Jack now, and that was how it was meant to be – after all, the Captain had visited him every other night since Lisa's death four weeks ago.

And still, there was a question that had yet to be answered. Jack had tried posing it several times and had failed each and every one of them, so he was quite sure that it was now or never.

"Are you coming back?" he blurted out and Ianto raised an eyebrow, still completely unperturbed.

"Will you let me come back?" He sounded mildly surprised at the thought. "I thought you were going to kill me."

From all the things Ianto had ever said to him – and they'd exchanged quite a few surprises in the three months since they'd started working together – this was probably the one who had to take the first place. "I'm sorry?"

"You know I'm trained for Retcon resistance in London." Ianto was still absolutely calm. "So I'm pretty sure that didn't leave you with a whole lot of possibilities."

"No!" Jack's voice had risen on its own accord and he tried to tone it down. "Christ, Ianto. Why would I come to speak to you for a month if I wanted to kill you at the end of it?"

Ianto shrugged "I haven't really thought about it. Why did you keep coming, though?" He asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion all of a sudden.

Jack was speechless for what was, he had to admit, not the first time when it came to Ianto. He didn't really have an answer. Nobody had made him come here and yet, he'd done it, again and again. He had recorded it in the Captain's log. Somehow, it had turned into a part of his daily routine that he'd been looking forward to.

"Oh." Ianto's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts and Jack noticed a new, bitter gleam in his eyes. "I see. And I kept wondering if Owen had given me a diagnose. PTSD I expected, maybe even something worse, but now I get it." Suddenly Ianto smiled, eyes still sparkling in a way that made Jack want to step back. "He's put me on suicide watch!"

"Ianto, it's not like that –"

"Of course. It was the first thing that came to mind, wasn't it? Look after the mad boy with the metal girlfriend and make sure he doesn't kill himself."

"Listen to me!" Jack had finally gathered his wits enough to speak over the other man, even if he kept avoiding eye contact. He shifted in his seat and tried to be as honest as possible. "Owen had nothing to do with this. Whatever happened here... it was my decision. All me, nothing to do with anyone else."

Ianto took a deep breath and hid his face in his hands. Even in his new position, Jack could see that his eyes were shut tightly. "Yes," he whispered at last.

"What?" The Captain asked tentatively. Ianto had the habit of jumping from topic to topic sometimes and right now, anything would be welcome. It wasn't until his next words, though, that Jack realised that he was being dismissed.

"Yes. Expect me back at work tomorrow." When there was no response, Ianto opened an eye to look at him. "I'll see you at the crack. You know where the door is."

And that was that.

There was no further acknowledgment that Jack was even in the room, but the Captain leant down anyway and kissed his forehead. The caress was as gentle as possible and he tried to pour everything in it – questions and remorse and pain and betrayal and everything that had happened and had not been said between them out of sheer stubbornness.

Ianto didn't move a muscle and didn't look up and yet, as he made his way down the street minutes later, Jack knew that his peace offering had been accepted.