The conversation came when he turned thirteen. Rhiannon, then eighteen and out of the house with work and her boyfriend, sat Ianto on the couch and perched on the coffee table.

When Ianto didn't start talking, she threw her hands up in frustration and leaned forward with an excited smile. "So who is it?"

Ianto passively shrugged, but Rhiannon wasn't going to be deterred. "What's her name?"

Ianto didn't respond again, and she leaned forward so their noses almost touched, then whispered: "His name?... Not that I mind, of course, Ianto—"

"It's not a him."

He saw the relief flicker across her face before she hid it, then she looked even more expectant for him to elaborate. "What is it, then?"

Ianto looked away and moved his lips feebly.

"What?"

"It's nobody."

"Oh."

Ianto nodded.

"Oh, Ianto…"

Thirteen-year-old boys didn't hug their sisters. But there were exceptional moments, and now—now, when he was supposed to tell her the name of his soulmate that had been supposed to appear on his hand—now that it hadn't happened—Ianto held on tight.

.oOo.

He didn't have the conversation again until he was with Lisa.

They were outside on a park bench, not far from the Torchwood Tower. The May sun smiled at them and let its rays cover the London ground in a rare show of kindness, and Ianto reveled in taking off his suit jacket to soak up the light.

He was watching two crows fight over a piece of bread when Lisa sighed and put her head on his shoulder. "It's such a nice day."

Ianto nodded; one of the crows had gotten hold of the bread and was hopping away as the other made angry motions with its wings.

"I'm happy I get to spend it with my soulmate."

Ianto tried not to stiffen up. He was good under pressure, quick on his feet, and usually in control of his body language, but when Lisa sat up with a shocked frown, Ianto knew he had failed.

"Ianto?" Her hand flew to her other hand, to where he could see his own name written, and rub it. "But… you are my soulmate?"

"I hope so." Ianto tried for a smile; Lisa's face darkened and he knew that he'd failed yet again.

"What do you mean?"

Ianto held out his hands. His sister had looked, too, trying to find a name that might have gotten lost. "There's no one."

"Oh, Ianto…"

.oOo.

When Ianto stopped by her desk later that day as they prepared to go home together, Ianto paused before he gave Lisa his hand: when she looked up from it with a wide grin, he grinned back, feeling the smile stretch farther than ever before.

"All fixed."

"I love you anyway," Lisa laughed (at him, probably). But Ianto knew that writing her name on his hand—in a green pen he'd taken off Yvonne Hartman's desk—had been the right choice.

.oOo.

"Was she your… you know?"

Ianto didn't answer. To Tosh, he realized, he looked like he was taking an unusual interest in Artifact 73948ZTW—colloquially called "left edge of alien wastepaper basket"—but he couldn't answer.

"I… I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry."

Ianto heard her turn and walk away, and it was only when the clicks of her heels were almost too faint to hear that Ianto turned away from the artifact and ran after her.

He caught up to Tosh on the stairs, stopping her with an "I'm sorry."

"It's really—"

"You just caught me off-guard."

They ended up at his desk, each drinking a glass of the emergency wine Ianto kept in the bottom drawer. He had emergency liquor, too, but that was a misery drink, and he wasn't miserable—in pain, yes, but it was easier with a friend; Tosh was a friend by now, wasn't she? Now that they'd both betrayed Jack for nothing.

"She wasn't," Ianto said at sometime around midnight, his head swimming with alcohol and memories.

"Who is?"

Ianto spread his hands helplessly, letting them do the talking. But Tosh still looked puzzled, and looked puzzled until Ianto thrust his hands into hers. "No one."

Tosh looked at his hands, then at his face, and Ianto's wine-addled brain saw her eyes brimming with tears as she threw herself at him with a hug. "Oh, Ianto…"

.oOo.

It was better, in a way, Ianto decided, to not have a soulmate than to lose one. It was easier to lose himself in Jack, though he felt like a fraud for loving and mourning Lisa. He felt like a traitor for missing Jack after conspiring against him—felt like a traitor to Lisa for thinking of her fondly instead of in grief.

That was how Gwen found him: coming down from Myfanwy's aerie, head lost in the clouds and hands full of her half-eaten dinner.

Ianto deposited the tray and fish and washed his hands. "What's happened?"

"What? Oh, nothing's wrong." Gwen appeared startled, but regained her composure and followed Ianto as he commenced the evening feeding. "I was just wondering… Ianto?"

"Yes?"

"Is Jack your soulmate?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is Jack your soulmate?"

Ianto didn't know why his personal life was a sudden interest to his coworkers: Owen had ambushed him with the same question not two weeks ago, and Tosh still threw him pitying looks when the subject of soulmates came up. Perhaps it had been those looks that had led Gwen to asking.

Rather than keep her waiting—and give her more time to consider the cause of his silence—Ianto shook his head. "No."

"Oh." Gwen's eyes widened, and she stood aside to let Ianto come closer to the cell and throw Janet some food.

Ianto stepped away and gathered his feeding supplies, then made his way to the stairs. "Anything else?"

"No—I mean… how are you?"

"As well as can be expected." Ianto gave her a wry smile. "Given that we're short a person and I haven't slept fully in weeks."

"Right." Gwen threw a last look at the Weevils and followed Ianto upstairs. She waited until he washed his hands to say, with forced casualness: "So who is it?"

"Who is who?"

"Your soulmate. Mine's Rhys." She indicated his name, written on her hand; then fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger, unused to wearing it. "If it's not Jack, I mean. I… I don't mean to pry, Pet, I'm just—"

"Curious?"

"Yes! But…" She shrugged. "I also want to get to know you. We haven't been the most… well, welcoming, and I just… wanted to fix it."

It was ridiculous. He'd been with Torchwood longer than she had! To Ianto, it sounded like a final step towards taking over Torchwood—he was the General Support, after all, with all the codes and secrets to government liaising—and to letting go of Jack to form a new team. That didn't make it an easier step, but Ianto had to admit: it would be nice.

"I don't have one," he said then, because it wasn't a secret.

"You don't have one—what?"

"A soulmate."

"Oh, Ianto…"

For a second, Ianto thought it had been a bad idea to tell Gwen; he had never wanted to be on the receiving side of her overbearing compassion. But yet again, he had to admit: she gave good hugs.

.oOo.

Ianto was making coffee when Jack came up behind him. "So who is it?"

Ianto had no patience to deal with cryptic questions so early in the morning, so he waved Jack away and waited for the coffee. Jack put his head on Ianto's shoulder, and snaked a hand under his shirt.

"Coffee?" Ianto asked.

"Of course."

Ianto placed the already-filled cup into Jack's hand and filled one for himself, then grabbed a plate and some toast and headed up to Jack's office, feeling Jack's stare on his arse and wiggling it with a laugh—a laugh that he heard echoed—before setting down the toast and coffee, and sitting down.

After taking a sip of coffee, a bite of toast, and watching Jack sit across from him, Ianto allowed the question. "What were you saying earlier?"

"Oh, that…" Jack hesitated, but Ianto saw the earnest curiosity in his eyes. "Who is it?"

"Jack…"

"Your soulmate," Jack clarified quickly. "It's a big deal for you people—don't do the eyebrow, I just mean the time period—and I thought that since we're… well…"

"Together?"

"Exactly." Jack grinned. "I just thought—I was curious."

"What about you, then?" Ianto thought he did a good job keeping his voice even; he needed at least two more gulps of coffee to be able to answer the question.

"I don't have one." Jack grinned like he was sharing a secret—like he usually did—but also tenderly, in a way, because it was a personal secret. "Evolution. We're over soulmates by the 51st century—not that it's a bad concept. Just outdated. The freedom of choice—of loving who you love without any universal diction—takes over the soulmate genes."

"Huh." Ianto wasn't surprised, really, but he wouldn't deny that his eyes had widened.

"Still, it's important here." He frowned over the top of his coffee cup, and lowered it. "You don't have to tell me."

"No, I…" Ianto shook his head. "No, it's nothing. Not a problem, I mean—also literally: it's nothing. I don't have one."

"You don't have one?"

Ianto held out his hands, which Jack took. Now that he thought about it, Jack didn't have a name on his hand. Ianto should have known that: they'd been naked together often enough, but he supposed that not having a name meant he didn't subconsciously search for one on his partner's hands.

Jack, meanwhile, was staring at his hands with astonishment. "I've never heard of this happening."

"I suppose people want to keep it secret."

"Shame?"

"I suppose so. No one wants to be different."

"Do you… what do you think about it?"

"I don't know. Sometimes, I feel like I should regret it or something. But I don't suppose I can regret something I've never experienced. I was ashamed of it when I was younger, I think, and it's… well, it's different. Like I said. But it's part of me, and it's got be for a reason, right?" He shrugged. "Or just a mutation."

Jack nodded, then let go of Ianto's hand and said: "Pass the toast."

Ianto did: he grabbed some marmalade, too, because Jack hated dry toast, and watched as Jack began eating.

So that was that. It couldn't be anything else, really: not when they were already together and settled comfortably into their relationship.

I finished writing this about two months ago... and was unsure how to title it ever since. After 26 minutes, I went with the first thing that came to mind: thanks for reading! :D