ONESHOT

Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, any characters or anything else they belong to series creator, BBC and any other production company or subsidiary yadda yadda yadda. (Not beta'd any mistakes are mine)

On with the writing then:

Nothing! That's what I thought of it at first. He's disappeared before, he always come back after a day or two. This is the first time it's different. This time he hasn't come back. This time he really has left and I'm not sure what to do about it.

I care for him, I do, but love, I think is too strong a word. With Lisa it was different. When she was killed it was a sudden crushing pain, which felt almost fatal. The pain of losing her, my love; all because we couldn't save her, I couldn't save her. I, Ianto Jones failed. Once again I failed someone whom I cared about and I'm not sure I can forgive myself for this atrocity of losing Lisa.

After five days, it was no longer 'nothing', but it wasn't serious. After five days of not seeing those blue eyes, that dazzling smile and having to put up with the cheesy come-ons, a slight ache began to pulse through my body. Every so often I would walk into his office, just to see if somehow we'd missed his return. Every trip made the next one more desperate. I felt like an addict, running to get the next rush only to find my addiction starved, all I have now are the memories, fantasies and smells to help me remember.

It has only been eight days, just over a week and already his jacket hanging in his office is starting to smell like me. I'm trying desperately not to forget him, his face, those eyes, the smile, the scent. In my desperation to remember, I'm forgetting, I can feel it. Ever since Gwen started calling to shots, the Torchwood that is Jack is gone.

I'll be honest, we knew it was coming. I knew it was coming, I'm prepared for it, I thought I was anyway. I thought I could handle it. I swore that what he and I had was to remain strictly sex and I'm horrified that this has now become something more of a soap opera. Somewhere along the way I tripped and somehow my heels went flying over my head.

With each passing day it's getting worse slowly the chiseled features of his face and body. The only thing that remains constant, never wavering are those eyes staring at me. I can't keep thinking this, why? Simple, it hurts. It physically pains me to think about this.

Remember that dull ache I told it started as? Well it's not a dull ache anymore. It no longer pulses through my body. It throbs with every fiber of my being; every rattling breath I draw in and every twitch of muscle pains me.

His scent is gone. It is no longer there in his minute quarters. His pillow and sheets, they don't smell like him anymore. They smell like me. Less than three months, that's how long it took for his scents to be replaced by my own. The others don't know it, but I have only been home to collect clothes for work, I've been staying here at night, just in case that very slight shimmering beacon of hope floating off in the distance suddenly flares up producing the one person who can make the throbbing stop.

The calendar on the wall is mocking me. Three months. Exactly three months to the day that he disappeared and now we have to go and chase some idiotic blow fish throughout the bloody city.

Halfway through the suburbs we stop and ask an elderly lady at the stop light which way he drove, Jack wouldn't have lost him if he was driving. But he's not here at the moment so I guess I'm just going to have to leave a message.

Tingling! It's weird, I'm in the SUV and the throbbing intensity that is life without Jack has been replaced by a strange tingling sensation, my entire body is tingling and I'm not sure what to do. That however is decided for me, when the idiot runs into a house. Typical, they never make this easy. Into the house and all of a sudden there's the blowfish directly in front of me with a hostage, big surprise. He's mocking us, he knows we aren't all that without our…

Blue. All of sudden that's all I can see, the blue suddenly form two piercing blue eyes and slowly, ever so slowly as the scent of him becomes stronger the chiseled features of his face and body, that amazing smile all come flooding back to me. His scent washed over me like a warm blanket. I'm trying to concentrate on the situation at hand but can't. But it's all okay, now right? I relax a little knowing I'm not going to have to take the shot the blowfish is taunting me with. He's here now, he can do it, come on Jack, don't make me do it; he will do it. BANG!

We're back at the Hub now, just standing around. He's talking but I'm not listening, all I can do is stare at the face and hope that I never forget it like that again, not his face. The throbbing is back again, because it has hit me. I've finally figured out what all the feelings were over the last three months, they're all there in black and white and it hurts, it hurts to know that I love him in a way he can't love me. Unrequited, they call it. Blue.

"I came back for you."

He's looking right at me as he says it, he then says something to include the group, but I got the message, how could I not with those blue eyes pinning me to the spot. He came back for me. I'm frozen; I'm not sure how to respond to that after three months of nothing. He was talking to me directly, he came back for me. The others are still around but it doesn't matter right now it's just he and I there.

Somehow in a haze of mist it all turned out okay, even after Gwen pushed him into the wall, I'd have rather broken his nose. He's behind me; I can feel him standing there. His presence is shining on me like the sun shines on a summer day, intense with intense heat. The heat is good, it feels good, but it's not enough right now, it's not enough to take away the months of suffering. I waited for three months; so can he.

"I meant what I said earlier Ianto."

Sighing, I hand him a cup of steaming coffee and look up into the blue, the blue that has plagued, tormented and pleasured me and before I head off back to sleep in my own bed for the first time in months, I utter one word. The word ghosts across my lips, but he heard it, I can see it in his face.

Blue.

--Ha, let's see Jack work his way out of this one… Hello, well this is my start to the Torchwood fandom, never been in it before and haven't written anything in years, which is scary, but what can one do. Apparently, my muse comes alive while in a metal cylinder 11,000m in the sky oh yeah and with a show/characters that I never expected to be writing about.

Didn't really end how I'd intended it to end and I'm not sure I like it, but I've posted it anyway!

Let me know what you think…