It's been a long time since Gwen died.

Jack can still clearly remember her, everything about her. He can still clearly remember her death, which is as much as curse as it helps him. She was a first for him, which was the first in a lot of firsts.

It's February, and freezing out. The sharp bay wind buffets his face, rubbing it raw and red. The Hub is warm and he likes to spend time there, despite the fact that she's everywhere and yet isn't anywhere. He doesn't know why she is. Everything is new. The Hub is redecorated, Myfwany is gone, and there is a new team where the old once stood.

Micheal instead of Owen. James instead of Ianto. Carly instead of Toshiko. Anwen instead of Gwen. And he's still Jack, still immortal, still alone.

Perhaps a shadow passes over his face when the new, unfamiliar team does something like the old. When Carly stares adoringly at Micheal too much.

When James flirts with Jack like Ianto once did.

When Micheal is a little too sarcastic.

When Anwen looks at him with blue eyes, but in the right light they're green.

He wanders down to the archives. There are four desks there, piled carefully in the corner where no one dares touch them.

One is Owen's. One is Tosh's. One is Ianto's.

And one is Gwen's.

He stares at the last. There is almost nothing different about it, except for one thing. Back in the beginning, he can remember it.

"Come on, Gwen," Jack says. She laughs and follows him. He has a knife in his hand. Carefully, they carve something in the wood.

Gwen and Jack.

Now, Jack runs his finger along the rough wood and smiles slightly. He opens one drawer. Empty. Another, empty. The last one.

There's paper in it. He picks up the sheets.

They are covered in heart, tiny, perfect hearts. In neat script on the first page is: A heart a day.

. There are thousands of hearts, or so it seems. Pages upon pages of hearts. On the last page, it says: For Jack, from Gwen.