Epilogue

The blue light faded, and John blinked his eyes several times to try and study his surroundings closer this time. The first time it had been dark, and he'd been sent back to Cardiff almost immediately to leave the pocket watch with Torchwood. Now the lights were on, and he could see that he was definitely not trapped in the pocket universe anymore, but in a posh living area of some sort: lush carpets, striking furniture, rich looking paintings on the walls. He smelled food—breakfast, from the scent of it—and the delicious aroma of coffee. As he tried to make sense of where he was, his contact rose from the comfortable sofa where she had been waiting for him.

"Hello again, Mr. Hart," she said. "Welcome back."

He glanced around again. "And where would that be exactly? A different kind of jail?"

"Of course not," she said. She was gorgeous, with a head of unruly curls, full lips, and sparkling eyes he knew were trouble. He'd thought so the moment he'd met her, when she'd asked him to find—or rather, to steal—the pocket watch for James Harper. She'd offered him a hell of a lot of money for a good challenge, though, so he'd taken the job; now he almost wished he hadn't.

"Then where are we?"

"We're still on Alpha Centauri, of course. Though if you'd prefer the pocket universe, I'm sure I could find a way to send you back."

"Only if you join me," Hart replied with a wink, trying to regain some equilibrium. She made a face that looked both disgusted and amused.

"I'm afraid my husband—among several others—would probably miss me. So no thank you. Were you able to leave Mr. Jones the package?"

"Yes, I left it on his desk," Hart replied. "Though I don't know why you wanted me to steal it just to give it to someone else. I thought Harper wanted it for his collection."

The woman smiled benignly. "Right now, Mr. Jones has a greater need for it. Or he will soon."

Hart crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you know this would happen?" he asked. "That the watch had a pocket universe lock?"

"Of course I did, Mr. Hart," she laughed. "I put it there."

"And did you know it would malfunction and send me back to Torchwood?"

She touched the side of her nose slyly.

"Did Harper know?" he demanded. "Because I feel like I've been set up here. I'm just not sure who set me up and what the endgame is."

"Perhaps you don't need to know," she said. "Think of it as wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey."

Hart groaned. "Oh god, don't tell me I fixed the past, or saved the future, or some rubbish like that. I'm not with the Time Agency anymore, sweetheart. And I don't appreciate being manipulated."

"I'm not manipulating you," she replied calmly. "You were the one who went back in time and met Mr. Jones, so you had to be the one to go back in time to meet Mr. Jones."

"Casual loop?" he asked.

"A small one," she replied. "The bigger one would probably blow your mind."

"You can blow my mind anytime," Hart said. When she actually rolled her eyes at him, he gave up. "So who's behind it then, you or Harper?"

She cocked her head. "And what makes you think it was one of us? Time loops are usually the natural product of an unstable quantum system simply trying to right itself."

"Because my instincts are good, and they're telling me I've been set up," Hart answered, then switched tracks to try and throw her off. "You said Harper would meet me personally to pay me. Where is he? Where's my money?"

The woman smiled patiently. "You'll get it. Did you still want to meet with him, or would you prefer me to transfer it for you?"

"I want answers," Hart said, then changed direction again. "Where's my ship?"

"Right where you left it," she said. "Like I said, we're still in Ararius. Mr. Harper took a room near the bank. When you were sucked into the pocket universe, we were alerted and able to claim the watch before the original owner of the vault was notified of the breach."

"How?" Hart demanded.

She shrugged. "Simple computer hack, of course."

"No, how did you know when I was sucked into the pocket universe?"

She motioned at his wrist strap. "Simple tracking device."

Hart stared at her. "You did set me up."

"Of course we did," said a voice behind him—a voice he recognized too well because he'd just left it. He turned and offered a forced grin even as his heart raced with both excitement and fear. What the hell was going on?

"James Harper, I presume?" he asked, then raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I like the new look."

The other man smiled, the shark-like grin John had once both loved and feared. He glanced down at the brown leather duster he was wearing over a local tunic and trousers."Times change," he replied.

"And yet you really haven't," Hart murmured, moving closer and eyeing Harper up and down. There might have been a new wrinkle or two, a hint of grey in his hair, but otherwise… "You barely look a day over a fifty." He whistled. "You should sell whatever it is keeping you fit. You'd make a fortune."

"Try a couple of thousand," Harper replied dryly. "And I'm already rich. When you invest over several millennia, you don't need quick scams."

"But apparently, you still need someone to do your dirty work?" John asked. "Because that's what this is all about, isn't it? You setting me up to take the fall for the watch."

Harper glanced around. "I'm sorry, what fall? You're not in prison, and we're not planning on handing you over to the Galactic police if that's what you're worried about."

"Then why not steal the watch yourself?" Hart demanded. "You said you'd hit the bank before and didn't get caught. Why send me in? Why let me get sucked into the pocket universe and end up with bloody Torchwood?"

"Because we knew you were the one—"

"Who got sucked into the pocket universe," Hart finished. "Right. This is the part where I fucking hate time travel."

Harper's face softened. "And yet in the end, time travel saves us all," he murmured.

"Whatever," Hart replied. "You've clearly gone a bit mad with age, so rather than beat around the bush, can I get my money so I can leave? Whatever's going on here, I don't want any part of it."

"Ah, but you're already a part of it," Harper pointed out. "In many ways, most of which you haven't even experienced yet."

"Then I apologize for everything I haven't done but will do in the future," Hart snapped. "Payment, please?"

Harper folded his arms over his chest. "You're awfully keen to get out of here, away from me. Every other time we've met you've thrown down all kinds of propositions and inappropriate invitations."

"Honestly?" said John, a rare term for him. "This is creeping me out. I left you on 21st century Earth, and run into you on 42nd century Alpha Centauri. The logical explanation would be that you're jumping in time with your wrist strap, but I know you're not. You're linear. How am I supposed to wrap my mind around that? No one should live that long."

Harper's face grew sad, and John looked away, almost unable to bear it. "No one should, and yet I have."

"Then why drag me into your immortal scheming?"

Harper nodded, then moved toward the sofa, where he leaned down and whispered something to the woman still sitting there and watching them with a pensive smile. She nodded and stood, cocking her head at John before leaving.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Hart," she said. "I'm sure we'll meet again sometime."

"I hope not," John muttered. In some ways, she scared him even more than Harper did, no matter how attractive she was.

John watched her leave the room, then turned to find Harper sitting in her place on the sofa. He motioned at a nearby chair. John reluctantly sat down. He hated feeling rattled; normally he adapted to whatever situation he found himself in. This was exceptional, though. He'd been expecting to leave the pocket universe and have to escape custody; he'd even come up with a daring plan to get the watch to Harper and run with his money. He hadn't expected to find his contact waiting for him, or to be sent right back to Cardiff with the watch. And he certainly hadn't expected to find out that Jack Harkness was the man behind it all.

"So what do you think I'm dragging you into?" Jack asked, leaning back on the sofa and looking far too relaxed. "What do you think is going on here?"

"Closed time loop, for one," Hart replied, trying to match the man's casual demeanor. "You remembered me coming to Torchwood when I tried to steal the watch, therefore you hired me to steal the watch so that I'd be sure to get sent back to Torchwood."

Jack nodded. "That's part of it, yes. But it's not about my past so much as—"

"Eye Candy," Hart replied. "He's the one I got stuck with when the psychic component malfunctioned. You have something to do with that, too?"

Jack inclined his head, but didn't answer. Instead, he seemed to gaze at the doorway with a smile. "His name is Ianto Jones."

"Fine, fine arse," Hart murmured, hoping to get a rise out of the other man. Instead, Jack nodded in agreement.

"Indeed. And a good, good man. You know, you helped us out during that little adventure."

John groaned. "Don't tell me you two got married or something after I left? Named your kids after me? I don't want any credit for that."

"No, nothing like that," Jack murmured. "But you gave him such a hard time—and me, indirectly—that we were forced to admit some things about our relationship that we hadn't admitted before."

"Yes, I was there," Hart grumbled. "I heard it all, including the shag fest afterward."

Jack grinned. "Always amazing," he said, wagging his eyebrows. Hart had had enough. He stood up to leave.

"Look, I don't want to hear about your relationship issues over the years. I did what I was paid to do, and now I want my money. I've got somewhere else I need to be."

Jack stood with him and nodded. "Of course. But I wanted to thank you, for what you did for us."

"Don't," Hart snapped. "Because if you're about to tell me you set this up all so I could play relationship counselor, I will find a way to make sure you stay dead."

"You'd be the first then," Jack replied cheerfully. "Nothing sticks. And yes, in a way, I suppose you did play relationship counselor. But you also took the watch back to Ianto, and that was far more important."

John was starting to worry; Jack was too calm, too relaxed, and definitely too much in control.

"So was it true, that it was stolen and you wanted me to steal it back?" Jack nodded. "Well, whatever is so important about it, I hope it was worth it," John said. "Now, if I could get my money, I'll leave you to your temporal machinations in peace."

Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Temporal machinations? I like that! I suppose it might seem that way, but you know from our training that it's not quite that easy. The universe corrects itself. Things tend to work out the way they're meant to work out."

"Destiny and fate, blah blah blah," Hart snapped. "I'm glad you're following the rules so nicely, then. I still don't want any part of it."

"A cup of coffee, then?" asked a new voice from behind him. "Before you leave?"

John whirled to find a green mug offered before him. It smelled amazing, like the coffee he remembered from his time in Cardiff. But that was the 21st century, when coffee was still widely and readily available. It had all but disappeared by the end of the 28th century, only making a weak comeback by the time of the 46th century. He should not be able to smell such strong, perfect coffee in this time…but then, he shouldn't be looking into a pair of blue-grey eyes watching him with amusement.

"I seem to recall you saying coffee was shit in the future," Ianto Jones pointed out. "You may as well indulge yourself while you have the chance."

John reached out with a shaking hand and took the offered mug. He sipped at the warm liquid, briefly closing his eyes as he enjoyed the strong, rich flavor. Then he glanced back and forth between Jack and Ianto and tried to regain his footing once again.

"Imagine seeing you here, Eye Candy," he drawled, and was rewarded when Jones's face tightened the smallest amount. "You're over two thousand years out of your own time—you take the long road or the shortcut?"

Ianto sipped at his own black mug of coffee. "What do you think?"

Hart studied the other man; Ianto wasn't wearing a fine suit, but was instead dressed much like Jack in the clothes of the time. He'd also grown his hair slightly longer and was wearing a beard, and neither was shot with grey. To be honest, Ianto Jones looked even better than he had in Cardiff; an air of confidence completed the package.

"You're looking good." Hart nodded in appreciation, hoping his leer might throw the other man off. Ianto rolled his eyes in that way he did so well. "I'm thinking you took the shortcut and jumped ahead, but you've been here long enough to go native."

Jones smiled, a small dangerous smile. "Nope," he said, Welsh accent strong as he popped the letters. "Definitely the long road."

"Damn," Hart murmured, taking another sip of coffee to hide his surprise. That meant Jones was almost as old as Jack. "Don't tell me you've been with him the whole time?" he asked, once again enjoying the annoyed look on the other man's face. "Because let me tell you, you're missing out on some amazing things out there. You should live a little. I can recommend this lovely species with tentacles who—"

Jones set down his coffee and turned toward Jack. "I can't stay," he said. "You can finish here."

He started to leave the room, then turned back to John. "I suppose I should thank you for this," he said, and he tossed John a shiny object. It was the pocket watch he'd just left in the tourist office back in Cardiff. It looked old but well kept, only slightly tarnished by age, with a few knicks and scratches marring the dull metal. "But right now, I can't stand to even look at you. So thank you, but stay the hell out of our lives after this."

With that he turned and strode from the room, his anger palpable, along with something John couldn't identify. He turned to Jack, who was watching Ianto go with a sad look on his face.

"I take it I'm going to piss him off sometime in the future?" he asked Jack, who nodded slowly.

"You could say that," he said. "Both of us, actually—several times over. Ianto has a harder time forgiving wrongs against others than against him, though. Not to mention a massive guilt complex."

John tucked that away. He hadn't done anything, but he almost felt bad for whatever wrong he'd done Ianto Jones. Or would, at some point in time. He tossed the pocket watch to Jack.

"What's the story with the watch, then?" he asked. "Has it got magic powers? Or perhaps you're contagious? Are there dozens of immortals spread across the galaxy now, pining after you?"

Jack moved closer; John recognized his panther stalk. "I don't remember you being such a dick last time we met," he said, his voice more casual than his body language. "In a way, you helped bring Ianto and I together. We were closer after you brought the watch back, aside from the usual bumps in the road. And you seemed different whenever we saw you again."

"Well, those other times haven't happened for me yet, have they?" John asked. He decided to sit down again and took Jack's place on the sofa. It had been a long day—a long two days without food and drink, actually — and he was suddenly feeling the fatigue. He took another sip of coffee, then set it on the table before he dropped it. "So maybe right now I'm a dick, but next time I'll grow up some."

Jack smiled down at him. "Ianto did try to convince you to move on, settle down into a respectable life."

"Never going to happen," John replied, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"I know," Jack replied sadly. "I saw it. And I watched you die because of it."

John groaned and tried to sit up straighter. "Fucking hell, you're telling me I'm dead for you now?"

"You've got time," Jack said softly. "And that's the thing about time travel—we can still see you again even after losing you."

"I seriously doubt Eye Candy was all broken up about it," John said. "Probably did a jig or something."

"He tried to save you," Jack told him. "I think that's one reason why he's so upset right now."

John let his head fall back against the sofa, his arms loose by his sides. "You're only saying that to get into my pants," he said, then laughed to himself. As if Jack was interested in him, not with Jones still hanging around. Jack shook his head again.

"No," he said, confirming it. "Doesn't happen."

"Didn't happen yet," John retorted. "Time travel, remember?"

"I'm sorry," Jack said, and he did sound sorry. "But I'm not that man anymore—I haven't been for a long, long time."

"You're too old for me anyway," John tossed back, but he heard the half-hearted tone to his voice. "And from the sound of it, Jones is not far behind. How'd that happen anyway? You or the watch?"

Jack fingered the watch. "In a way, it was you," he said quietly.

"Because I gave him the watch," John replied. "It's that damn watch. Your curly-haired friend told me Eye Candy was going to need it. Is it really magic then? Does it save him—or curse him?" He stifled a yawn and struggled to keep his eyes open.

"It revealed his true self at the moment he needed it the most. So yes, it saved him, and in a way, it saved me as well. Because he's still here, alive, with me. I thought I'd be alone when he died. Now we just take a break when we need it."

"I don't understand a word of what you're saying," John replied. He was finding it harder and harder to talk. "But if I did something good for once, you're welcome."

"You did," Jack said quietly. John turned and leaned against the arm of the sofa, stretching out his legs. He was exhausted. To his surprise, Jack pulled a blanket over him. "And I'm sorry it has to end like this, but we're meeting out of order. I had no choice."

John tried to sit up, but he couldn't. He could barely keep his eyes open or speak. "You drugged me," he managed to slur.

Jack nodded. "You'll wake up here with no memory of ever meeting me or Ianto. It has to be that way, so that it doesn't change the past." He paused. "As much as I'd like to," he murmured.

"You bastard," John muttered. "You really did set me up."

"It's a closed time loop," Jack replied. "No beginning, no middle, no end. You saved Ianto's life, and I'll always be thankful for that."

John tried to shake his head, but it barely moved. "I'd have said no if I'd known. I hate being manipulated, especially so you can shag into eternity."

"You won't remember," Jack murmured. He touched John's cheek and gazed at him fondly. "You'll wake up and River will make sure you're safe. The room is yours for three days, your money will be waiting, and your ship is ready."

"And at some point, I'll run into you in another time," John said. "Before I die."

"Several times," Jack replied. "And you should probably—"

"Jack," came voice from somewhere nearby. "You can't say anything."

Jack's eyes tightened, but he nodded. "I know. I won't. He's almost out and wouldn't remember anyway."

"You know we can't change the past," Ianto said quietly, and John saw the Welshman enter his field of vision. "We can only maintain it."

"We have," Jack said. "You're here, after all. It worked."

"Ianto Jones," John murmured. "See, I know your name."

"Go to sleep, John," Ianto told him. "You'll be fine when you wake up." He paused and took a deep breath. "And thank you for saving my life."

"Still not sure how, but you're welcome." John paused. "You, not him. Eye Candy. Jack's eye candy forever. Lucky pricks, both of you." He yawned. "See you around. Hope I remember next time, though."

He drifted off and remembered no more.

"That was not pleasant," Ianto said quietly, standing beside Jack. "Even though we've met him several times over the years, I remember this version. He really got to me—he was so angry and bitter."

"So were the others," Jack pointed out. "It's his nature. You can't change him. Just like you couldn't stop him, or save him, and that's all right."

Ianto sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we go now? I've been dreading this for months, and you promised a vacation somewhere I've never been."

"Didn't we do the same thing after he left you the watch back at Torchwood?" Jack asked. "Take a trip?"

"We went to the Gower," Ianto replied, smiling as he remembered one of their first trips together. "It was good."

"Well, we can do better this time," Jack replied. "We have the entire galaxy to explore. Are we done packing?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You mean, am I done packing? Yes. Your stuff is scattered wherever you dropped it."

Jack pulled him close. "I doubt it. You want to leave, so I bet you packed it for me."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Fine, I did. But I didn't fold anything."

"I doubt that too," Jack laughed. "You hate wrinkled clothes."

"Can we get our stuff and go?" Ianto grumbled. "I didn't stick around for two thousand years for you to keep taking the piss out of my traveling habits."

Jack leaned forward and kissed him. "We can go anywhere, do anything. We made sure you survived Thames House. We're no longer part of the loop." He placed the pocket watch back in Ianto's hand, where it belonged.

"Still can't believe it sometimes," Ianto murmured, thinking back to the moment in London when Jack had placed the pocket watch against his forehead, and he had been enveloped in a warm, golden glow unlike anything he'd seen or felt. It had been painful and disorienting and desperately confusing, especially when he'd woken up after thinking he was dying in his lover's arms, only to find Jack holding him close and crying.

They'd saved the world together that day, and many times after. And then they'd left and started new lives wandering among the stars. They'd always come back to Earth, but after hundreds of years of traveling, they had purchased a small planet—an asteroid, really—to call home and began their collection. At first it had been for memories from their past, then it had been a preservation of history, and then they had started collecting dangerous artifacts, vowing to protect the galaxy and pass on what they had learned.

Until they'd realized it was time to set in motion the time loop that had saved Ianto so long ago. They'd easily traced the watch to vault 654 of the Galactic Bank on Alpha Centauri, since that was what John Hart had told them in Cardiff. While searching for Hart, they'd also tracked down the owner of the vault. Apparently he'd found the watch, realized who it belonged to, and had vowed to keep it from them both, in order to torture Jack once more. Even the numbers on the vault had been chosen to hurt them, and they had. Fortunately, River had found Hart, they'd sent him in for the watch and let things unfold as they'd remembered them, and Ianto had regained the vital timepiece despite the Master's machinations.

Ianto's grandfather had once told him it was important, valuable; Jack had said the same. Now they knew why, and Ianto could only thank the universe that it had allowed him to regain his true nature. It had been a difficult adjustment, and he still didn't know much about how it had happened, but in the end, it didn't matter how, only that it had. He could be with Jack almost forever; he still had nine regenerations left, after all, and so much work to do. Places to go, things to see—even after so many years. He couldn't be more grateful to be what he was, to have the time that he had now.

"So where are we going?" Ianto asked. He led Jack from the room to gather their things.

"What's your fancy?" Jack asked. "Action, adventure? Or someplace calm and quiet?"

"Both?" Ianto suggested. "Can't have you getting bored and causing your own trouble, after all."

"I can do calm and quiet, you know," Jack pointed out. "I have grown."

Ianto glanced sideways at him. "But what good is calm and quiet without a little action and adventure beforehand?"

Jack laughed. "Very true. All right, then, I know the perfect place."

"Your bed?" Ianto suggested dryly.

"It's your bed too," Jack replied as they entered the bedroom. "But no, for once that's not what I was thinking. River has a lead on some tech we might want for the archive—plasma canon, Jamolean lance, your favorite stun guns. Only it's located on a leisure planet known for some seriously adventurous forms of copulation."

"You want to take me to a sex resort for business and not pleasure?" Ianto asked dryly.

Jack shrugged. "We could do both. There's quite an underground in illegal weaponry and alien tech developing, so we could prowl for the tech at night and indulge ourselves during the day."

"Indulge ourselves how?" Ianto asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"I've heard it's beautiful, some of the best beaches this side of the galaxy," Jack replied. "The food is supposed to be amazing, and they have a highly-developed sense of art, music, and dance. They like to enjoy themselves and show others a good time as well. Peaceful, cultured." He paused. "And lots and lots of sex."

"And yet it's crawling with illegal tech dealers?" Ianto asked skeptically.

"From what River said, it's expensive," Jack replied. "Anyone that goes there has the money to spend on fancy tech, particularly weapons. I've never been there, but I know in a century it'll be a criminal hangout, full of assassin guilds and drug gangs. And even more sex, but not in a good way."

Ianto nodded. "Now's the time, then. I wouldn't mind a new Tregennan demolition bomb," he said. "That worked nicely back in Cardiff."

"Could use more bolt guns too," Jack said. "Zach Flane still wants to take a team to Krop Tor and check out the power source, and they could use whatever help we can give them."

"Sounds good," said Ianto. "We can take our time, though, right? There's no hurry to get there, get back?"

"Not really, although we should let Zach know so he can start preparing his team."

"Tell him three months," Ianto replied. "Then he can go study black holes as much as he wants. Right now, I want my vacation."

Jack stepped up to him and wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist. "Do you think you'll ever be ready to see Gallifrey?" he asked quietly. "Because the time loop is over for us. We're no longer tied to preserving the future—or maintaining the past. Maybe it's time to explore your heritage."

"Do you ever plan on returning to Boeshane?" Ianto asked in response. Jack shrugged.

"Maybe someday," he replied. "As long as I don't run into myself. I did grow up there."

Ianto sighed. "But I didn't grow up on Gallifrey. It's little more than a name to me, like a place from myth and legend. My home is on Earth, in Wales."

Jack nodded. "I understand," he said. "Maybe we could swing by Earth on our way back? It's been a while, after all."

"I'd like that," Ianto said. "But sex planet first."

Jack smirked. "I think that might be the first time I've ever heard you put those two words together."

"It's hardly the most shocking turn of phrase," Ianto pointed out. "Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken us this long to go!"

"If I'd known you were interested, I'd have taken you centuries ago," Jack teased. Ianto smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

"How about a preview before we leave?" he murmured, and began to nibble at a spot on Jack's neck he knew would make the other man quickly agree. He felt Jack smile and relax into him.

"John's in the other room," Jack pointed out in token protest, letting Ianto guide him closer to the bed.

"Hasn't stopped us before," Ianto replied.

"So is River."

Ianto stopped and pulled a face. "Damn. Quick and quiet, then. It's too nice a room to let go to waste." He tumbled Jack down to the bed with a grin, and they laughed as they quickly disrobed, kissing and touching and reconnecting after a long day—a long wait.

They'd waited two thousand years to ensure Ianto's future. The mystery of the watch and the time loop had haunted him at times, but now they could both move past it and spend another two thousand years together, or more. Whereas once the thought of living for centuries had terrified Ianto, now he looked forward to it.

He was with Jack, and they had all the time in the universe to explore the stars, with` an ancient pocket watch to remind them of both their past and their future. Together.

Author's Note:

The End! I told you there was a bit more, and that I'd left the hints, and many readers seemed to pick up on it! Yay! I wanted it to be subtle, though, so I hope it worked. If you've read my stories, you know I will almost NEVER pass up a chance to give these two men their happy ending. I've never done it this way, though, so now I can cross it off my list. Now, if you're going to be picky and poke at the mechanics of it, fine. I'm not sure even I can explain the casual loop this time. And I know Ianto should probably look different after a few regenerations, but I'd like to think he did, then came back to a familiar one for this particular adventure. I needed John to recognize him, after all, so I'm playing my author's card. I think I've earned it. I did a ton of research for this story, particularly the ending, so try to catch some of the other references instead of wondering why Ianto still looks like Ianto. Thank you for reading and for all of the comments and support! I hope you enjoyed this story.