Kiss The Boys Goodbye

Standard Disclaimer:

This is a fan written story arc involving characters [and dialogue] created and owned by Russel T. Davies and the BBC. The following story is fictional and does not portray any real person or event. Any reference to any real person or event is strictly coincidental.

No animals were harmed in the making of this fic.

Author's Note:

Silly, readers. No one ever stays dead in Torchwood.

Additionally, this is the final chapter for the Don't Blink / Kiss The Boys Goodbye story arc.

Thank you all for reading and your comments have been invaluable to me.

Twitter: Quinnzical_

In the empty space between awake and dreaming, Toshiko Sato often thought about Owen Harper. It said very little due to how much time she spent thinking of him when she wasn't floating about in her own subconscious, but said a great deal when she found herself in the weightless void; thinking of nothing.

There was a significant lack of girlish flights of fancy involving one charmingly aloof medic, an even more startling realization that there was a lack of anything. It was empty, but not cold, and the darkness seemed eternal. There was also a lack of fear, anger, or any emotion to give some sort of perspective to this new dream scape. The darkness simply existed and Tosh existed within it.

With no concept of time, she hadn't known how long it remained silent until the smallest break in the emptiness made her think of Owen once again. It was as if his voice was held captive in a jar on a shelf that was an entire universe away, and someone had lifted the lid for just a moment.

While Toshiko sat amongst the darkness, Owen worked feverishly beneath blinding lights as a faint heart beat played out a steady rhythm on the machines behind him. It was that heartbeat that kept his hands from shaking and his temper in the realms of normal. If it wasn't for the continual pulse, Torchwood would be hiring for three new positions, starting with the liaison to the local authorities.

Gwen paced the railing above the autopsy bay, her gaze darting between the whirring rift manipulator and the brilliant shade of red painted across the sterile white. Her thumb nail clenched firmly between her teeth, there were no words that would make right what had occurred. She meant to injure Owen, to stop him from making a terrible mistake, but hadn't counted on Tosh sacrificing herself on behalf of their medic.

With no sign as to what opening the rift may have done and no change in Tosh's condition, there were few other options. The machine continued to whir, and the steady beep of a faint heartbeat filled the hub. Owen worked, Gwen paced and Tosh sat within the darkness.

Waiting.

Cardiff, 1941

Jack slid his hand along the wall to feel for a light switch, catching the smooth plastic between his fingertips, he gave it a flick and glanced around. The room was no more than storage with a small window set high on one wall. The shadowy movement caused by the lightest of breezes through the cracked glass, caressing aside a sheer curtain. There was no Ianto lingering alone in the room, though the captain was certain he saw him on the balcony just a moment earlier.

He cursed silently to himself and turned, his jaw tensing. It would seem that chasing Ianto around was getting him no where, and every lost child knew that the best way to be found was to simply stay put. Jack folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the balcony railing, looking down upon the mingling guests.

"Not long now, Sir." Bilis said from behind him, the elderly caretaker seemingly appearing out of nowhere on the landing. Jack glanced at him for only a moment before turning his attention back to the soldiers. They danced and Jack watched, at least it was a good vantage point.

"Not long for what?" He asked without looking, but no answer came in reply. Jack turned again and furrowed his brow. It was enough with Ianto vanishing, but prophetic old men pulling a disappearing act had a habit of making the hairs on the back of his neck quiver. Stepping away from the railing, he started heading back down the stairs with one last careful glance over his shoulder.

Near the bar, Ianto found Captain Harkness sitting alone with only a glass of brandy as company. He looked almost downtrodden, though any passing soldier would get a brave smile on his lips. He watched him for a moment through the shifting crowd, his fingers tapping lightly at his own hip as the decision in his mind was wrestled into resolution.

He took a few slow steps before his movements became determined, and before any protest could be formed by his own doubts or the confusion of the captain in front of him, Ianto took his hand and silently invited him to dance.

They danced without care, without fear and without shame.

Strong hands wrapped lightly around strong hands and well defined jaw lines brushed lightly against one another. The warmth between them was enough to part Ianto's lips for a moment, a soft breath shifted lightly past Jack's ear. In those moments, nothing else mattered. The war that was going on seemed harmless and the whispers of the men around them were nothing more than a background track to the sweet melody that the band was playing. In those moments, there was no danger. In those moments, there was no time travel. It was only Ianto and Captain Jack Harkness.

But not his Jack. Not his Jack, that traveled through time itself to find him. He knew he would come. He knew that any moment he would arrive to rescue him from whatever odd fate he had befallen. This was the night, and this was the place and there was only time standing between them.

"I may..have to leave before the night is over." He whispered softly, his thumb shifting lightly against the other mans hand as if to offer even a semblance of comfort. What comfort could be given for an impending abandonment with little to no explanation.

"You could stay." The response was unexpected, and barely over a whisper from the lips of the man that held him close. They shifted together, slowly turning as the music continued. Ianto let the words sink in and as he parted his lips to speak, he found all vocabulary and ability to vocalize it gone by a familiar face in the crowd.

"Jack.."

Having finally gotten the young man to say his name, Captain Harkness raised a brow at how serious the implication that he was leaving really was. He shifted to look at him, and poised to question it but a bright light from the entry way stopped everything. The music fell still, and Ianto was looking back at the door with so many emotions painted across his features that it was difficult to define them all in those few short moments.

Jack stepped from the crowd and grabbed for Ianto's arm, having found him finally he was not about to lose him again just as their way home was granted. The younger man shifted slightly, pulling free his arm as he looked back at the dapper soldier standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

"Ianto, we have to go." Jack was saying, motioning for him to step forward. Away from the past, away from the history that he had been thrown into and away from Captain Harkness.

"He needs me, Jack."

"I need you, Ianto.. There is nothing you can do for him." Jack shook his head, glancing towards the white light as if expecting it to have faded. "Trust me."

It was first one foot that turned and then the other, Ianto's steps leading himself away from the last month and back home without any regard to how it tugged at his heart. Could he just walk away? Could he leave it like this? Without any resolution? Any finality?

Ianto stopped and reversed course, rapidly stepping across the wooden flooring. His hands grasped almost desperately for the front of Captain Harkness' uniform as he leaned up and pulled him in to a kiss. There were hands at his neck, soft fingers rubbing lightly at his cheeks and along the edge of his ear. They parted for a moment if only to pull in a hesitant breath before Ianto whispered a soft goodbye and stepped away with Jack into the light.

Leaving history behind them, and Captain Jack Harkness with it.

Present Day

It took Ianto a moment to speak once his feet were solidly on twenty first century cement and his lungs were full of the polluted tang of twenty first century air. He did so while leaning back against the brick wall of the dance hall, tugging at a string danging from the cuff of his shirt.

"What happens to him, Jack?" He asked, squinting against the sun light as he looked up at the man who saved him.

"He dies. His squad is ambushed the next day while on a routine training run. Not a single one of his men is lost, but he dies." Jack stepped forward, standing in front of Ianto as he took a moment to look him over, brushing a hand lightly against his cheek.

"We were together every day for over a month and I still knew so little about him. Both of us, pretending to be someone we weren't." He muttered, subconsciously leaning his cheek against Jack's hand. The feeling of something familiar, something lost and then found, nearly overwhelming.

"Did you want to stay?" Jack asked, leaning close enough to place a light kiss on Ianto's forehead.

"Would you miss me?"

"Yes." He replied without missing a beat. Ianto looked up at him, the corner of his lips twitching just the slightest.

"I belong here, Jack. I always have. Nothing in any other time or across any other universe will ever mean as much to me as those that I've loved here." He let his hand rest on Jack's coat, brushing his fingers over the fastenings before he curled his fingers in the thick fabric and leaned up for a kiss. "I wouldn't change that for anything."

Prologue

Toshiko made her way into Jack's office, her arm in a sling but a grin on her lips and a bottle of liquor in her hand. She knocked lightly at the door with the glass, stepping inside to set it on the desk. Jack looked up from the paperwork from Ianto's case, grinning brightly to see her recovering well.

"Ianto said that he met another Captain Jack Harkness in the past." Idly, she poured the drinks and slid one slightly over to the man before her. "Why did he have your name, Jack?"

"I took his name. I needed to blend in. I needed a cover.. so I took his name, his identity and made it seem like he had never died that day." Jack took the glass between his fingertips, watching the liquid shift about before he took a slow drink. It burned down his throat, warming him from within. "He was a better man than me."

"He would have been proud of you, Jack." She stated firmly, leaning against the side of his desk. "He would have been proud to have you take his name." Tosh smiled, leaning slightly to catch his gaze as she raised her glass enough to clink it against the side of his own.

"To Captain Jack."

He smiled, at last and nodded in agreement. "To Captain Jack."

The End