Chapter Twenty-Three

Jack watched Ianto from the doorway as he prepared another death certificate for Martha to sign, leaning on the slab of a cryo chamber for support. It was the last of the mutant bodies, the cleanup that was a normal part of the Torchwood administrator's duties. Jack had been more than happy to hand that task over when he hired Ianto on, glad to have less obligation to stare in the faces of the aliens and, too frequently of late, humans who more often than not he'd had a hand in killing, whether directly or by not being perfect enough to save everyone. The young Welshman didn't seem affected by the presence of so much death, even with the body of his former girlfriend just a few feet from him behind an iron door. Jack crossed his arms, looking from Lisa's crypt to the one below it where he had spent over a century waiting to see his brother again. Gray slept there now, set aside until Jack could figure out a way to heal the shattered mind of his tortured younger brother. He refused to believe John's assessment, that Gray was a lost cause, just like Ianto had refused to believe there was no way to bring back Lisa, even after she had tossed him aside to die. He furrowed his brow at the comparison that had sprung unbidden into his mind.

"Looking for someone in particular, Jack?" Ianto didn't look up from his note-taking. "We've got a special on today thanks to an unscheduled shipment, guaranteed one-of-a-kinds."

Jack broke into a laugh. "We really should get someone in to examine your mental state with your gallows humor." He walked into the room, resisting the urge to pull his lover into his arms and have him then and there. Even he had his limits and sex in a morgue just pushed it a bit far for him, although he had his suspicions that Ianto wouldn't object. It would certainly make his own office fetish seem tame by comparison. "Almost done?"

"Last one." He straightened, sliding his pen into his suit jacket's inner pocket, then tucking the clipboard under his arm to push the slab into the chamber. "Need coffee?"

"Badly." It was becoming a comfortable metaphor between them, that one. "Been making my own for days now. It's not the same."

"It's always better to have someone else to stir for you." Ianto engaged the lock.

"You have a way with the cream." Jack glanced over at the door Kyhl had locked when he had stood here the last time.

"I know you like it strong and not too sweet. Just how far are we going to try to stretch the metaphor this time?"

Jack held up the stopwatch he'd taken back from John, offering it out. "My office, ten minutes?"

Ianto took it with a mischievous half-smile. "And counting, sir." He slipped it into his pocket and walked out, casting a lustful wink over his shoulder before closing the door.

Jack stared at the cryo door a few more moments, listening to Ianto's fading footsteps before he lifted his wrist and opened the interface board on his vortex manipulator. He was ninety-nine percent sure nothing would happen again, but when he pressed the key to unlock the door, he was met with a satisfying clank from the mechanism. "Finally get to see what you were up to, Kyhl." He leaned down and opened the door, then slid out the slab.

His eyes widened as he looked down on what appeared to be a small, gold-plated sphere. A soft mechanical whir started and the sphere bounced, opening a pair of large, curious blue eyes. "Oh gosh, oh golly, oh wow!" it exclaimed in a child-like voice, then shot out of the cryo chamber, bouncing off the walls in a hyperactive glee.

Jack ducked to avoid getting bashed in the head as the ball sped by. "What the hell are you?"

The ball slowed to a hover, turning to face him. "I'm Widget Too. The Doctor's friend said he thought you might need someone who can help you get to whens and wheres, but only if you're good when you get there!"

"So you're a floating dimension-splitting robot who can track the various Captain Britains and open up Rift portals." Jack raised a brow.

"Among other things," said the sphere cryptically, then started to spin. "Wheeeeeee!" It stopped again, wobbling. "I'm hungry. What you got to eat?"

"Tell you what. Go find Captain Union Jack. He knows where the kitchen is." He opened the morgue door for the robot, who immediately zipped off, crashing into the wall and bouncing off to head up the stairwell, chirping excitedly. Jack chuckled, shutting the cryo chamber door before making his way out through the surgery. He could hear the sounds of mayhem from the break room and didn't even hesitate, continuing straight to his office.

Stark set his helmet on top of the rest of the armor that made up the Mach III, now in a pile on a gurney. "Give me an afternoon, it'll be up and running again. Although I was thinking I could make a new suit as well, incorporating some of the design improvements we worked into the Metallique." He looked over to Martha, running his hand through his hair. He never was very good at this part of things, he realized, mostly because he never practiced it. Morning-after moments with most women were handled deftly by Pepper, or resulted in him getting slapped by an angry woman who too late recognized she'd made a mistake thinking Tony Stark had seen her as anything other than a warm body.

Martha crossed her arms. "So two afternoons, then?"

"Gives me something to do during happy hour." He studied the wall of the surgery thoughtfully. Martha was anything but another warm body. She, as much as Pepper, was fun to talk to, without a decade's history of missed opportunities and too many bouts of boozed misbehavior to get in the way. "I could always do with some help."

"Good thing Tosh is going with you, then." Martha smiled.

"Not with me, exactly. Think she likes the fact that my company is in the same city where Warren spends most of his time." He looked over to her again, narrowing his eyes at how difficult this was getting. "You know, Marty, I was thinking we'd be a great team, you and me. You could follow me around and make sure my heart keeps beating."

Martha shook her head, laughing softly. "Sorry, Tony, I've done my shift following a bloke around. Doesn't matter how great a bloke he is, I've got my own life, and I want to live it. Besides, Owen's heading off to Avalon with John to train under Margali, so someone's got to stay here and look after the team. Melehan and his mutants are still out there somewhere, and who knows when they'll drop out of the Rift."

Stark swallowed the lump in his throat, never having anticipated that response. "Probably the best plan, yeah. I'm sure you can get that flying thing down on your own now that I've shown you the basic controls, and if a problem comes up you can always send the suit through to--" He was cut off by her leaning forward to give him a kiss.

"I'm always free for special occasions, though. You know, birthdays, holidays, the odd red carpet affair. Always wanted to do one of those where it didn't wind up with alien parasites bursting from the guests or some other messy business."

"Mine are usually alien parasite free." He slid his arm around her waist. "You have a dress? Because I think there's a little dinner thing this weekend I was supposed to find a date for. Unless, of course, Merlyn already took you to the White House. It's not a big thing, just a reception for the French President and his wife."

Martha's eyes widened. "You have the same ones on 616 that we do? Cécilia Sarkozy is going to be there?"

Stark nodded. "Think that's her name. Ex-model or something. I might have slept with her years back, before she was married, of course. So you interested?"

Martha punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Only if you promise not to point out every woman you've slept with all evening. I've seen nude shots of her. That's a lot of pressure to live up to."

"If it helps, I can't remember her body, but yours is permanently etched into my psyche." He pulled her close for a kiss. "I'll have my Widget call your Widget and set up a portal, Saturday say around.. six?"

"Sounds like a plan." She slid her arms around his shoulders. "Should I pack anything? An overnight bag?"

He grinned, dropping his forehead against hers. "Oh, most definitely bring your toothbrush, Dr. Jones."

It had been a day since their visitors had gone home and the Hub felt oddly quiet with three fewer members of Torchwood there. Jack, Gwen, and Martha sat around the conference table, watching archive footage from the CCTVs on the monitor.

"There, you're right there in the corner!" Gwen leaned forward, pointing. "I'd know your bare arse anywhere, Jack."

Jack snickered. "See? It's not that I cheat at naked hide-and-seek. Ianto just never thinks of the best spots."

Martha shook her head, then tipped up her beer, fast forwarding to the next clip. "That's three to Gwen. Hold on, I've got this one! You're under the exam table." She leaned forward. "He must have left you there a long time, poor Jack."

The captain rolled his eyes. "Please, it was freezing in there, that's all."

"Stop it! No! I told you I'd get you some tins and I did!" Ianto's frustrated outburst from outside caused them all to turn around in time to see Widget Too phase through the wall, blue eyes blinking innocently. The admin threw open the door, glaring at the robot. "Jack, she's out of control."

"What'd you do, Too?" Jack leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"I was hungry!" protested the sphere, bouncing through the air to hide behind Jack's chair. "Tell him not to be mad."

"Don't be mad, Ianto. What'd she do?"

Ianto crossed his arms, cooling. "She's only gone and eaten half the coffee machine."

Jack turned around in his seat, brow raised. "Too, didn't we say no vital equipment in your diet?" He looked up at the monitor as it beeped, the view switching to the RAM readout. "Okay, kids, looks like Torchwood's back in business."

Ianto picked up the remote, switching over to the map view, then bringing up the video shot of a medium-sized space ship plummeting toward the lake in Roath Park. "What sort of aliens are those?"

"Aught-three Firefly-class Mid-bulk Transport, mid twenty-fifth century to early twenty-sixth, although that one looks like it's pretty beaten up. Great little ship. Did a short tour with the browncoats getting shuttled around in one. Those aliens would most likely be humans from the colonies, probably smugglers or mercenaries." Jack broke into a grin. "If we're really lucky, they might have a professional Companion on board."

:There we go, a completed fanfic. I'm a little sorry to see this one end, however, so yes, there's a bit of a teaser there that might turn into a sequel after I take a bit of a rest and re-watch all my Firefly and Serenity dvds. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this one, and of course...

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