Title: Kick at the Darkness (Till it Bleeds Daylight)
Fandom/Pairing: Torchwood, Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: BBC RTD ETC
Rating: Light R, for language

Summary: Ianto on love, categorization, Torchwood and Jack Bloody Harkness

Warning: SPOILERS! Both for "The Dead Line" AND for Children of Earth: Day One. You have been warned.
Other: Title is from the song "Lovers in a Dangerous Time"

You'll never just be a blip in time, Ianto Jones. Not for me.

Well. Sod that.

No, seriously. That little line there might as well just fuck itself to fucking hell, as much good as it's doing. It's typical Jack, a reassurance that reassures whom? Oh, yeah. No bloody fucking one. Except maybe Jack.

Because Jack is as aggravating as he is full of himself, and the two collide more often than not. And it's all well and good to say he's not a blip, but…

But then, what is he?

Yes. Being convinced he was insignificant was painful, but at least he had thought he knew. Now, though, well, now he hasn't got the foggiest notion of what in the name of all things caffeinated he and Jack are.

And if there is one thing Ianto Jones hates, it's not knowing things.

'Blip in time' had them stationed somewhere above 'fuckbuddies' and somewhere under 'life partners', and while they're still neither, there's a hell of a lot of wiggling room in between those two, and, knowing Jack, there's probably an entirely different category he thinks applies hidden somewhere fifty miles away from the paths Ianto's thought processes can trod, or, even better, no category at all. Ianto is an archivist. These things don't sit well with him.

But Jack is Jack, as soon as he admits a vulnerability (like, say emotional attachment beyond the 'blip-in-time' range) he shuts down every other opening and hisses like a big cat when you prod the issue. So Ianto tries a different tack.

He watches the people watching them. With most people who get the chance to observe them, it's lost in Oh-my-god-aliens-exist?! And then retconned away promptly, but Gwen, she sometimes gives them this look, like she wants to pinch Ianto's cheek and buy them a set of matching towels.

Rhys has a more calculating air, because he's still not sure how much of a threat Jack is, and he and Ianto haven't gotten much chance to get to know each other, but Ianto's pretty certain there's less of a cold front these days because he keeps Jack away from Gwen.

Survey says: couple. By name, if not nature.

So Ianto gives it a whirl. He mentions it to Jack, faux-casual in an entirely too painful way. Ianto's good at lying to strangers, but he feels like Jack can see every part of him, his eyes, his mind, the inside of his skin, even, the ugly bits, and he's desperately, terribly bad at lying to Jack. Once upon a time he was good at it, but that ended when Lisa died and he fell in love with the bastard.

Jack, being Jack, doesn't get it.

Ianto sometimes wished he had James Bond's attitude. Or his age. Or his voice. Or his looks. Anything, really, so that, "He thought we were a couple," would come out deep and casual, yet calculating, and not nervous and fake.

Jack doesn't need to be James Bond, he's cool enough on his own to breeze right past the comment (and the next time Ianto mentions it) with his inherent coolness.

Life isn't fair.

This is why talking to Rhiannon is a nightmare come true.

She's his favourite sister ever (that is, if he'd had others, he'd have liked her best), but she, unlike him, lives in the real world with real people. Jack is not a real person, officially, or if he is, his records will say he's too old to possibly exist, and his ego is big enough to eat up most of the real world like a giant Pacman.

Rhiannon's like him, in some ways. Not in the way where she has tits and kids and a decent job and he doesn't, but in the way that she likes knowing things. But he can't give her anything to know about Jack, except that he's handsome (on that note, please, God, if you exist, make sure Jack never ever finds out about that. Pacman. World. Chomp.), because does he know jack shit about what he and Jack are? Why, no, he doesn't.

This is why he needs to know if he and Jack are a couple.

This is why he needs to have their relationship, if indeed it is more than a 'blip in time' deal, cemented in fact, with a pretty description and something that will make other people and, more importantly, Ianto himself, stop asking.

If the goddamn hub is going to blow up, starting in Jack's stomach, and he crawls home covered in blood and soot, he wants to be able to tell his nice elderly neighbour, "My boyfriend/lover/partner/what-the-fuck had a bomb in his stomach and the whole building exploded around him", rather than "there was a bit of a mishap at work" (He wouldn't, of course. He just wants to be able to).

He wants to know who he's listening to when he listens to Jack singing the Andrews Sisters and bad 70s pop, who it is who martyrs the Welsh 'r' when he calls Ianto "Cariad" in bed, and he wants to know who Jack sees in him when they wake up in the morning.

Is that so much to ask?

Alright.

Facing the facts, it probably is. Jack's not a duck. He doesn't mate for life. He's not a 21st century human either. He doesn't understand what Ianto's on about.

But still.

When Rhiannon asks whether Jack is nice, he says nothing.

Revenge is sweet.

Or something.