Summary: Jack discovers giving Ianto a Valentine's Day gift is not as easy as it sounds.

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen, Rhys, brief mention of Toshiko & Owen, OC

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys implied

Rating: M

Spoiler: to be safe, everything up to and including Meat, specifically Cyberwoman, Out of Time, TYTNW.

Setting: between Meat and Adam

Warnings: adult language & concepts, swearing, slash sexual content.

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters, nor do I receive money from stories. Any similarity to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

A/N: I know Ianto has the under-barrel part to his gun as early as Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and although I researched, I know little about guns and attachments. All errors are my own. Excuse the poetic license. Thanks always to my talented beta, Triquetralin.

The Greatest Gift

"You bought me a gun attachment?" Ianto stared into the open box on his lap.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Jack smiled.

The look on Ianto's face went from shock to incredulity. "You bought me a gun attachment. For Valentine's Day! This is your idea of romantic?"

"You have been bitch-" Jack shut his mouth and went another tack. "..asking for one for ages. All the others have the under barrel laser, and your gun didn't, so I thought to surprise you."

Ianto stood, the box and its contents spilling onto the floor.

"Careful," Jack bent to pick up the delicate piece of hardware, tucking it into the box again.

"This keeps getting better!" Ianto paced, his hands waving in the air. "You got me a gun attachment, to help me feel like everyone else, as a romantic gift? Jack Harkness, you are one, amazing piece of work, you are!"

Sitting on the sofa, blind-sided, Jack watched Ianto storm away. He had no idea what had gone wrong. Even the card, he thought, was perfect. Something you've always wanted - Jack. He tucked it into the box next to the laser scope and went to place the box on Ianto's desk.

As a rule he didn't do gifts and for this one to go so wrong, he was flabbergasted and more than a little hurt and angry. It wasn't like he had bought Valentine's Day presents for everyone, just Ianto. Surely that should have told the young man how he felt.

Shaking his head, he went back to his office, but he couldn't concentrate. The look on Ianto's face kept coming up in his mind. He shoved his chair back, staring at the ceiling as if there were divine intervention from there. Nothing came.

A soft knock interrupted his whirling thoughts. He settled back behind the desk, hoping it was Ianto come to apologize. It was Gwen.

"Oh, hey. What's up?"

Gwen came in, closed the door and leaned against it. She had an odd look on her face and kept looking over her shoulder through the window at something.

"What? I've had my fill of trying to read minds today, so tell me or get out."

"A gun attachment." She said softly, pointing behind her. "I saw on Ianto's desk. Sorry, I'm nosey, you knew that. But, a gun attachment? Are you kidding, Jack?"

"What the hell is wrong with a very expensive laser scope? Would someone please explain it to me?"

Instead of explaining, Gwen fell against the window, laughing. "Oh Jack! You are in such deep shit right now. I pity you!" She let herself out, still chuckling.

Alright, time to take matters into his own hands. Jack grabbed his coat and took the invisible lift up to the Plass. He knew who would give him a straight answer.

The drive, instead of calming him, fuelled his tension. He'd gone out of his way, picked out the scope himself, found a nice romantic – yet manly, card, and he was being treated as if he had wrapped up dog shit. By the time he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the nondescript little office he was fuming. He slammed the SUV door and with his long coat billowing he burst into the tiny office of Harwood's Haulage.

Prim, but motherly, Ruth, sitting at her reception desk just inside the door, jumped and squeaked in fright at his entrance. Seeing who it was she abruptly calmed, taking a moment to surreptitiously check her hair.

"Oh hello Captain Harkness, how may we help you today?" she cooed.

Rhys Williams, the manager of Harwood's, and Gwen's fiancé glanced up from his paper work.

Even with anger radiating off him, Jack knew his manners and took a moment to smile warmly at Ruth. "Hello, Ruth, hope Rhys isn't keeping you chained to your desk all hours of the day."

She simpered, not sure if his comment was meant as a euphemism or not, decided to take it as one and blushed, then blushed some more as she realized maybe she shouldn't, what with Rhys being engaged and all.

"I'm just going to borrow your boss for a few moments. I have some very deep romantic questions to ask him."

This made Ruth blush even harder and she dropped down into her seat, speechless.

"Jack, I'm very busy and in no mood for your flirting." Rhys barked. "Besides I'm still mad at you for making Gwen work overtime this week."

Jack leaned his knuckles on the desk. "I'll see she gets off early for the next three days AND she can have Sunday off, barring desperate Rift activity, if you help me with something. Deal?"

He knew a good offer when he heard one, even if, coming from Jack, it made him suspicious. He stood up and thrust out his hand. "Deal."

Jack shook the offered hand sharply. "Could you come with me for a bit? I need to talk to you," He glanced back at Ruth who quickly went back to retyping the last two sentences of the memo she'd been asked to email. "In private."

"Sure," the burly man eased out from the cramped corner where his desk sat. "Ruth, I'll be back in half an hour or so."

The two men exited the building.

"Coffee?" Rhys asked.

"One of the things I never say no to," Jack winked suggestively.

"Well it's all your going to get from me!" Rhys laughed. He led the way to the street and down the block into a small cafe.

Sitting at a rickety table, a few moments later, both men stirring and fussing with the generic ceramic mugs. Rhys took a sip, then looked meaningfully at his watch.

"Alright, what's up?"

"Valentine's Day," Jack started. Rhys nodded, then interrupted.

"The early days off start today, right? That's part of the deal."

"Alright, alright," Jack waved his hand impatiently. "Good to know someone will be shagging tonight."

"Spill the beans, man. I don't have all day. What have you done to get in the shithouse?"

The captain's blue eyes widened. Perceptive of Rhys, but he's been in a relationship with Gwen for years now. Jack couldn't even remember the last time he had thought of the person he was shagging as a "relationship".

"I bought Ianto a Valentine's present. It didn't go over well."

Rhys chuckled into his coffee cup. "Knowing you, probably a gun."

"A gun attachment, actually. An expensive one!" Jack still felt a bit proud of the actual choice. It was a nice gift, dammit.

Coffee spilled across the table as Rhys snorted, nearly dropping the mug completely. "You're joking!"

"That's what Gwen said."

"Oh, man! You are in serious shit."

"Gwen said that as well. And if you don't give me an answer, Gwen's on graveyard shift for a month."

"Alright, mate, no need to get shirty." Still chuckling, Rhys asked. "First question, why'd you buy it? What was going through your mind, yeah?"

"Because I wanted to give him something. Because I know he's been bugging me that his gun doesn't have one and everyone else's does. I didn't buy anyone else anything. I thought he'd appreciate that I noticed something he wanted."

"It's a work weapon, not his own personal collector's gun, correct?"

Jack nodded.

"Okay," Rhys started tapping out points on the table. "First of all, you bought him a work-related gift on a romantic holiday. Second, you bought him something that everyone else has, not something unique. Third," he started chuckling again. "You bought him a weapon on a holiday devoted to love." He shook his head.

Jack thought for a long time. His coffee was cooling by the time he took a worried sip. "But he wanted it."

"No, he needs it. You don't buy something a person needs for Valentine's Day. You buy them something completely ridiculously frivolous, extravagant, utter nonsense, and indulgent. You can do indulgent, can't you?"

Jack grinned, finally seeing the error of his ways. "It's been a long while, but I think I can remember."

"Good man." The burly man threw back the last of his coffee like he was taking a shot of whisky. "I pray to god you can take it from here, because no matter how much I like ye, Jack, I'm not going shopping for indulgence with you."

"What'd you get Gwen?"

"Ah-ah! Now that would be telling, wouldn't it. No cheats and no help."

Jack tugged his mind from where it was gallivanting in a number of different stores in his head. "Yeah, no, you're right. Thanks, Rhys. You've been a great help."

They stood and Jack shook his hand again as they made for the door. "And tell that fiancée of yours that a bit of sympathy goes a long way."

"She laughed her arse off, didn't she?"

Jack nodded.

"That's my Gwen."

"Well I'm just glad Gwen's man is much more accommodating." He flashed his patented flirtatious grin.

"Hey, a deal's a deal. You keep giving me what I want, and I'll give you what you want." With a saucy wink, Rhys turned and stepped up into the Harwood's office.

The salacious captain stood there a moment. Had he just been out-flirted by Gwen's fiancé? Things were looking up. Now if he could only fix what he had so royally screwed up.

What was the most indulgent, ridiculously frivolous thing he could give Ianto?

As he drove away, his mind delved deeply into thoughts of Ianto.

The young archivist had a way with the world. He knew systems, recognized patterns, was astute, observant. He listened to what people said and didn't say. All this helped him slip past Jack's disarming charm, strip him bare. What frightened Jack the most was once he was laid bare, all his faults and dark secrets open to Ianto's shrewd introspection, Ianto never once classified him under the "T.M.I." label. To be honest, Ianto, for all his archival skill, never labelled anyone. Everyone was weighed honestly and openly by their words and deeds.

Which wasn't to say that if your deeds were lacking, Ianto wouldn't condemn you to the seven levels of hell. He could be as ruthless as his captain. And that was something that Jack thought of fondly.

Alright, he admitted it. The things he got mushy about were things that often sent people screaming into the night. Blood spilled was blood shared. He set more value on battlefield passion than marriage. A good rough knock-down fight, grievances not just aired but splattered messily on the wall, got his cock hard. He knew the feel of more weapons than he did bodies. Okay that might be an exaggeration, but the numbers were close for both.

Ianto didn't understand the lust for danger, not as much as the rest of the team. Or maybe the team didn't understand it either but they didn't analyze it. Ianto never went looking for the adventure or the danger, but when thrust into it, he fought hard and brutal. No, not brutal, efficient. Get the job done and get out. Live another day at any cost.

He kept his passions for Jack. The breathless violence, the struggle for control, the letting go of all inhibitions – none of that was in battle where he was cool, determined and methodical. He let it all out for Jack, knowing the captain could handle it.

In the deepest part of himself, Jack knew this was the attraction for him. If there was a "type" that undid Jack to his core, this was it. Added to Ianto's sharp perception that kept Jack on his toes, he knew he would never be bored with this beautiful, enigmatic, passionate man at his side.

Driving through the city, Jack was no closer to an answer. He was stopped at a traffic light, elbow out the window, fingers tugging at his hair as if he could yank the ideas out. Just as the light turned green, a video advertisement on the roof of a building half a block away flashed and caught his attention.

"Give her the gift of time ...". The words scrolled across the screen under an extravagant photo of a beautiful diamond encrusted watch.

Inspired, he immediately found a lane to turn around and headed to the one business that could help him. An hour later, he was set. For the first time, though, he squashed any feelings of overconfidence. Considering how assured he had felt about the last gift, and how disastrously it had gone over, he knew a little humility, however hard to swallow, was in order.

Who says he couldn't change?