"Please?"

"Nope, really not interested, thanks."

"Pleeeeeeeease?"

"Well, when you put it like that… Sorry, still not interested."

"But Ianto, you're the only one we know who doesn't already have it." Gwen was following him now as Ianto moved about the Hub, straightening up the bits and pieces that always seemed to accumulate. "Rhys just got it on his new car and we can still get the shopping vouchers if we introduce a friend." Her voice had become almost insect-like in its excited pitch. In a final act of desperation she added, "Don't you want to help save the world?"

"Not today, thanks." Ianto ducked through the cog-wheel door and fairly sprinted up the stairs to the Tourist Office. It'd been a long time since he'd felt the need to escape, but as it seemed that the rest of the team still saw it as his private domain, it was his only chance for quiet. Gwen did not follow. As Ianto entered the small information office he realized just how long it had been since he'd last done more than simply pass through on his way to the Hub. Stacks of brochures were slightly askew and, he noticed with some dismay, slightly dusty.

As the Tourist Office was now cleaned and sorted, Ianto logged into Torchwood's official Email. While technically Jack was the only one with proper clearance, they both knew full well if Ianto didn't deal with it, it wouldn't get done. Due in part to Tosh's extremely efficient, alien-tech enhanced, spam-filtering software, only one new Email had been received. It had been written by a Jo Nakashima, a freelance journalist, and forwarded from Colonel Spencer Mace of U.N.I.T. In a terse note at the bottom, Mace asked if Torchwood had nothing urgent pending, could they take a look at the Atmos plant in Port Talbot. There was also an official advisement of an imminent operation outside London at the main Atmos plant. No details, just the name: Operation BlueSky. The request had been sent cc to Torchwood 2, 3 and 4. Ianto frowned slightly; didn't U.N.I.T. ever read Torchwood correspondence? He did a quick mental calculation as to just how long Torchwood 4 had been listed as officially missing. Too long.

Jack looked at the printed e-mail and frowned slightly, "Think there's anything to this? What do we know about this Nakashima? Is he reliable?"

"She. Don't know if she's reliable. She's dead." Ianto held out the other sheet of paper. "She and 52 others have been killed in… unusual automobile accidents."

"Lots of cars on the road, just how 'unusual' are we talking?"

"Hmm, running off cliffs, into buildings, into lakes… possibly poison-related as well. And other than the reporter, they all occurred at exactly the same time, 5a.m. locally."

"That is unusual." Owen wandered over from his desk, clearly having given-up on the pretext of tidying it up (and not eavesdropping.) When Jack looked at him with a raised eyebrow he continued, "Who in their right mind would be up and driving at 5 anyway? Not me."

Ignoring Owen, Ianto continued, "52 deaths simultaneously, world-wide. All of them with nothing in common, except that they all had Atmos… and that they're now all dead."

"I'd say that was worth looking into. Take Owen with you."

"Road trip!" Owen was clearly excited at the prospect of some time away from the Hub. He grabbed his back-pack med-kit. As they made their way out and towards the SUV bay, Owen continued, "So! Where're we going?"

"Port Talbot." Ianto replied with a small frown.

"No." Clearly no longer quite so excited.

"'Fraid so."

"Shit."

As they arrived at the Port Talbot Atmos assembly plant, Ianto wasn't sure that their Torchwood I.D.s would impress the guard at the gate. His mind raced, franticly sorting plausible cover stories. He briefly wondered if Owen had a plan, but before he could ask, the guard had raised the barrier and waved them through with hardly a glance. As they climbed from the SUV and faced the main building they both looked at the low gray warehouse and were decidedly unimpressed. "And I thought the Hub was dingy."

"Well, at least they have windows here." Ianto had at one point early in his time with Torchwood, considered asking that a window be installed in the Tourist Office. Since his promotion to field agent, however, the idea had become somewhat less vital.

"Not that you could see through any of these. What a fuckin dump."

"Hmmm. Wonder if they have good benefits."

"Well, whatever the benefits are, the workers don't look thrilled to be here either." Owen glanced at the boiler-suited workers as they moved wordlessly here and there.

"Not a very talkative bunch, are they?"

"Well, maybe we can make them talk. You take the warehouse; I'll see what answers I can get from admin."

Ianto looked at Owen's leather coat and black jeans and considered his own three-piece suit. He briefly contemplated suggesting a swap of roles, but as junior field agent he'd followed Owen's lead before and it had never gone wrong. Well, never horribly wrong. Well… Ianto sighed and turned towards the giant doors that led into the wholly unimpressive structure. In the large warped wooden doors was set a small warped door, and it was through this that he entered.

Tosh stared at her monitor and blinked. She tapped at her keyboard and blinked again. "Hey guys, don't know if this is going to be a problem or not, but there's some kind of signal coming from near you. Cordolaine, maybe."

"And that means exactly what?" Owen's comms transmission crackled as he scoffed.

"Dunno yet. Maybe nothing." She paused and they could hear the tapping of her keyboard in their earpieces. "Cordolaine transmissions excite certain metals."

"Well as long as something's getting' excited. Anything else? Anything helpful" Owen shook his head at the pointless interruption.

"What kind of metals, Tosh?" Ianto asked. "Tosh? I asked what kind of metals can be affected. Hello?" He tapped his comms earpiece, but there was still no answer. "Apparently the metals used in Bluetooth technology." Ianto continued to wander through the corridors of the warehouse, unchallenged by the factory workers. While nothing seemed odd (at least by Torchwood standards) nothing seemed quite right either. Glancing at a file of timecards on the wall, Ianto noticed the workers were on a 24-hour shift… 7 days a week. He made a mental note not to tell Jack, didn't want to give him any ideas. The workers moved as if in a trance, completing their tasks and moving on to the next. Something in their zombie-ish movement seemed familiar, but try as he might, Ianto was unable to place the familiarity in context. One last place to check and he'd give-up and meet Owen back at the SUV. Ahead, at the end of the hallway was a doorway, marked with the sign for a stairwell. As the warehouse wasn't particularly lofty, Ianto assumed the stairs led down. He was beginning to sense a wild goose chase in the place and found his mind wandering to his own kitchen pantry, back at his flat. The mental inventory scrolling as he considered what to make for dinner that wouldn't require a stop at the shops on the way home. He considered asking Jack to join him. Jack had been hinting that while they still hadn't managed to find time for it yet, he would be holding Ianto to his promise of a second date. Ianto couldn't help but smile as he recalled Jack's almost shy manner in asking him out the first time… as if he feared rejection. As if Ianto could ever say no to Jack, at least for long.

As he entered the stairwell, Ianto stiffened slightly as he sensed a change. He paused and tried to determine the exact nature of the alteration. It wasn't a smell, more like a taste in the air. A metallic tang. Like blood on the tongue. Like when he'd had to physically bite his tongue to stop from telling Capt. John Hart exactly what he thought of all those orgy suggestions. Ianto tapped the comms device in his ear, planning to let Owen know where he was headed, and to mention the metallic nature of the atmosphere. Still no answer. Ianto was unsure if his comms were down, or if the signals were being jammed, or for that matter, if he was just being ignored. Owen had probably turned his comms off when he'd entered the offices. As he descended the stairs, the taste/smell grew stronger and more unpleasant with each step. At the bottom was a small vestibule of a hallway with only a single door, marked "Authorised Personnel Only." Ianto reached into his suit jacket and thumbed the catch off his shoulder holster. He moved forward slowly. As he'd learned from Owen, Ianto rested his hand on the weapon, feeling that the safety was in the off position, as he opened the door… and froze.

Owen scowled as he left the administrative offices. "Fat lotta good you lot were!" He tapped the comms earpiece, "Oi! Ianto! Ready to be done with this place? Ianto?" He tapped the comms again. "Ianto! You ignoring me?" Owen glanced at the grimy warehouse before turning the dial on his comms, "Jack?"

"Find anything?" Jack's voice came in clear, destroying Owen's down-comms theory.

"Well, no. They were less than forthcoming. But still, I've not found anything…"

"Okay, c'mon back then. Oh, and ask Ianto where I would have put that file on the Traverrians."

"Well, that could be a problem…" Owen started towards the warehouse, his hand resting on the gun in his waistband holster as he checked that the safety was off.

"Owen."

"Well, I said I hadn't found anything…"

"Owen, did you loose my Welshman?"

"I can pick you a new one up on the way back. For some reason they seem to be all over the place, here."

"Owen. I want him back."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on my way in to find him now."

"How can you loose an entire Welshman?" Gwen's voice startled Jack slightly. He was staring blankly at the email and the list of the Atmos dead, but his mind was clearly on something, or someone, else.

"He's fine." Jack sounded anything but sure, so he repeated it again, "He's fine."

"Of course he's fine. He's turned into quite the field agent while you were gone. He never wanted it, but the team needed him and he stepped-up. He can handle himself, Jack.

Jack considered a comment that he'd prefer to be the one handling Ianto, but instead just glanced again at the papers before him. "What's out there? What's doing all this?"

"I don't know." Gwen tried to put confidence into her voice, a smile on her face, "But we'll find out Jack. And we'll find Ianto."

There was a tank in the center of the room, filled with a hideous green goo. The tank was unsettling, but it was the thing next to it that made Ianto's blood run cold. It was a table, or a bed, which bore an uncanny resemblance to part of a cyber-conversion unit, like that upon which Lisa had lain for so many months. Ianto inched closer to it, wishing it, willing it to be something else entirely. As he drew near, he noticed that there was something different; it lacked all of the associated conversion machinery. But still the similarity was almost too much for him to bear, looking at it now. Ianto glanced around the room, looking for hints as to its purpose. Perhaps there weren't any Cybermen. Maybe the conversion bed was just borrowed technology. Torchwood had come across that time and again, alien civilizations borrowing tech from each other (or stealing it.) Ianto allowed his mind to wander away from the bed, imagining an alien version of Torchwood on some far-off planet. He even hazarded a quick smile at the image of a stereotypical Hollywood alien, in a suit, delivering coffee to an alien Jack… assuming that his Jack wasn't really an alien already… He took a deep breath and tapped his comms unit again. The signals were probably being blocked within the warehouse, but he had to report, just in case the transmissions could get through. Ianto called in. He told about the entranced workers. He recalled a time back at Torchwood One when nearly a quarter of the staff suddenly abandoned their posts to go stand on balconies and rooftops. Could the workers here be under some form of 'blood-control?' He reported the liquid-filled tank, the bed, and the metallic tang in the air. Just in case anyone could hear him, he asked if it might be a cloning tank, but didn't expect a reply. When the "Yes. It is." sounded behind him, he spun, his hand still clutching the holstered gun. What he faced was so wrong, so out of proportion, he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at it. Yep, that's the taste.

There, standing before him was a battle-armored alien, less than 2/3 Ianto's height. The creature, clad entirely in some kind of black rubber or alien leather stared at Ianto. "Your communications device has been blocked. No one can hear you."

"You can hear me." Ianto couldn't help replying and cringed slightly as he wondered whether this alien species would understand sarcasm or humor of any kind, for that matter.

"That is true. But I already know what you are only guessing."

"So am I right?" Ianto's heart raced. What to do? Delay? Run?

"You are correct. And unusually perceptive for a human. You are brave to venture here, alone." The black-clad alien paced, appraising Ianto. "In fact, combined with your intuition and deductive skills, I would judge you as… above average."

Above average what? Height? Ianto took a step back as the alien advanced. Delay? Run? "So, not from around here, I'm guessing." He cringed again at his own lame attempt to draw out more information and to buy time to think of a plan.

"No. I am Commander Stuul of the 10th Sontaran Battle Fleet. Stuul, the Unstoppable. And you? I judge you a worthy opponent and would know your name.

"I'm Ianto Jones of Torchwood Three. Jones the Coffee-Bringer."

"Well, Ianto Jones, I see that you are a true warrior and will not go down without a fight." Stuul indicated the hand Ianto still held within his suit jacket. "I anticipate you carry a weapon."

"Nope, I have a history of not going down without a fight. Ask Jack." Another step back.

"I know not of this 'Jack.' Do you deny being armed? A true warrior does not hide his weapons. Show it! Face me!"

The automatic had grown warm in Ianto's grip, but he thought back to Tosh's earlier transmission. She'd detected a signal, possibly Cordolaine. If the metals affected included those of his gun, or its bullets, the weapon would be useless, and Stuul knew it. Stuul laughed, a deep and evil sound as Ianto stepped forward drawing his hand from within the coat as he came.

Ianto closed the distance between himself and the alien quickly, before his resolve could ebb. As he drew to within feet of the creature, he reached forward and pressed the bright silver plastic of the stun-gun into the chest of the creature. 10,000 volts later, Stuul lay twitching on the floor of the dingy cellar of the dirty warehouse. "I'm more than just 'above average,' thank you very much."

Stuul was still twitching slightly as Owen burst through the door, gun drawn. Ianto raised his hands slightly. "Where have you been?" Owen stepped forward and kicked the black baton from the hand of the alien that lay at Ianto's feet.

"Making new friends." Ianto bent to examine the armor. "Ever hear of Sontarans?"

"New one to me. Jack wants us back."

"You can get through to the Hub?"

"Nah, lousy comms are blocked in here, but I did earlier. It's all intermittent. Let's just get back."

"And what about Stuul?" Ianto indicated the twitching alien at their feet.

"Oh, I'd say we should invite your new friend 'round for tea."

It was a struggle, but they managed to carry the Sontaran up and out of the warehouse without being seen. "Heavy bastard for something so short." Owen grunted as they finally pushed him into the backseat of the SUV. "Maybe we should try the Hub again. Let them know we have company coming."

"I've been trying. The entire time you were bringing the car around. Still no answer." Ianto's breathing was fast and ragged as he sat in the passenger seat. "I need more exercise. This is ridiculous."

"Know what you mean." Owen's face was red and he too was panting heavily. "Would the SUV's comms work any better?"

"Might do. Give it a try."

"I'm driving. You give it a try."

"Will do. As soon as I can breathe again."

Halfway back to the base, when the comms were once again functioning properly, and Owen and Ianto were once again breathing normally, Stuul woke-up. Reaching forward to the driver's seat, he wrapped his hands around Owen's neck and squeezed with all his might. Owen jumped slightly at the unexpected touch. He soon realized that Stuul's fingers were too stubby to reach around his throat, let alone cut off the air. "Hey! Stumpy! Do ya mind? I'm driving here." He swung the steering wheel sharply to make his point and Stuul lost his grip. Ianto turned in his seat and applied the stun-gun once more.

"If he doesn't behave, this things going to need recharging."

"Give him one more, just to be sure."

"That's just mean." Ianto turned back around.

"No, that's just me." Owen flashed him a quick, and somewhat evil, grin.

"So what kind of name is that? Stuul, as in: Stuul, the Un-sat-upon? Or as in: Stuul, the Unflushable?" Owen leaned against the wall outside the cell, glaring at its newest occupant as Jack removed the helmet from its head.

"More like Stuul, the Over-Cooked" Ianto blinked at the naked head of the alien, which looked, for all the world, like the galaxy's largest baked potato.

"So, the question as I see it is what are we to do with you?" Jack exited the cell and stood in the doorway.

"Kill me now. Allow me the honour of death."

"Yeah, but not right away. We need to find out some things first. Like what your friends up there in orbit have planned."

"You'll get nothing from me!"

"That's what they all say."

"I refuse to speak."

"You're makin' a hell of a lot of noise for someone who refuses to speak." Jack swung the heavy steel door closed with a solid clang. With a cheesy German accent, Jack said through the small observation window, "Ve have vays of making you talk." As he joined Owen and Ianto on the way back to the hub, he added, "Anyone got any sour cream?"

"Is that the thing you wanted to use on me?" Ianto eyed the alien contraption warily. "Back when I was having those headaches, you wanted to try some scanner… is this it?"

"No idea what you're talking about, mate." Owen wheeled a metal chair into the middle of the room and began to extend its bracing legs.

"It is, isn't it?" Ianto examined the helmet. "Will this even fit his head?"

"We'll make it fit." Owen mimed forcing it down with all his might.

"Owen!" Gwen scolded.

"World in the balance, Gwen. What do you want me to say?"

"Say you're ready." Jack entered, escorting Stuul from his accommodations in the vaults.

"Just about."

"Kill me. This is no way for a warrior-"

"Yeah! Yeah! Save it." Jack shoved Stuul into the chair. "Tosh, you ready?"

"Yes. I'm not sure of the calibration yet. I may have to adjust it as we go."

"Individual cooking times may vary." Ianto whispered to Gwen who laughed in a staccato burst, eliciting a glare from Jack. She tried to point at Ianto, but Jack just tilted his head and fixed her with an icy stare.

"Let's do it." Jack and Owen pushed the helmet over Stuul's head and jammed downwards.

"Shouldn't we poke him with a fork? Whenever I microwave a potato, I stick it with a fork first." Ianto whispered and Gwen squealed again, this time punching him in the arm.

"Stop it," she laughed.

"Stop it the both of you. Worse than a bunch of kids. Tosh! Owen!"

"Ready," they answered in unison.

After several minutes it was clear the Stuul had no intention of talking. Owen resisted raising the level of the scan without further tests. While he and Jack argued, Ianto approached the Sontaran captive.

"Ah, Ianto Jones, the Coffee-Bringer! We are warriors, you and I. You captured me and proved your worth. Now prove your honour and kill me."

"Sorry, can't do that. Can offer you a tea, though…" he held-up the steaming mug.

"What is that?"

"Darjeeling."

"Is it good?" Stuul eyed the cup warily.

"So, this atmospheric conversion has something to do with that clone-tank in the cellar, doesn't it?" Ianto pulled a chair over as he handed Stuul the mug. Stuul was poking a finger in the tea and didn't reply. "I recon you're not just looking to destroy humans, but something else…"

"Do you have sweetener?" Stuul sipped.

"I think I can help you out with that… Now about the clone-tank…"

Several moments, and several packets of sugar later, Stuul had divulged the entire Sontaran battle plan, confirming what had been in the back of Ianto's mind. As a lower-level Commander however, Stuul didn't understand the mechanics of the device well enough to be of any use in figuring out how to stop the conversion.

"I dunno." Jack threw a sidewards glance at their captive. "It all seems too easy" He, Owen and Ianto stood apart and watched the Sontaran for signs of deceit.

"He seemed sincere. Well, as sincere as a baked potato can seem."

"So, what if he's lying?" Owen's lip curled slightly as he watched the alien swirl the tea in his fourth cup.

"Hate to base our counter-attack plans on the intel, if it turns out to be completely false. Owen, ratchet that machine up a notch or three. We need to confirm what he's told Ianto."

"I believe him." Ianto glanced at the Sontaran who was sipping his tea and nibbling rather daintily on a chocolate biscuit.

"But why would he tell you their entire plan?"

"Never underestimate the power of a good cup of tea."

The next scan level was as ineffective as the first, as were the next three, producing no results, whatsoever. The sixth level, however, produced a noticeable result. Stuul, the Unstoppable, exploded.

"Well, I'm not cleaning that up." Owen sneered at the mess that had once been the mighty Sontaran warrior. "Ianto was right. We should have poked him with a fork first."

Ianto couldn't help but feel a little distressed at the remains of the alien slumped in the chair. "He was telling the truth."

"Leave it, Ianto." Jack put an arm around the young man and led him away from the sight. "Meeting in the conference room in 10 minutes people. I want answers… and options."

With Jack's help, Stuul the Unstoppable was placed gently in drawer 17 of the alien cold storage. Ianto filled-in the accompanying paperwork and smiled slightly as he ticked the 'extreme' box under the heading of 'Threat Level.' "You fought with honour, Stuul. Your Empire would have been proud."

"So 400 million bombs, just waiting to turn the world into a Sontaran… nursery?" Gwen shuddered at the thought. "Killing everyone on Earth, for their kids?"

"Well, not precisely. They're clones, they don't really have kids. But the killing everyone on Earth part is right." Jack stood at the end of the conference table and looked at Gwen, Tosh and Owen in turn. He wondered where Ianto was. It wasn't like him to be late for a meeting, ever.

"Tosh, can you figure out how to stop these devices?"

"I need to figure out how the device works first. Then, yes, I think I should be able to figure out a way to stop it."

"Get started, then." Jack nodded to Ianto, who had slipped quietly in and taken a seat.

"I'll need one of the devices first." Tosh looked up from her laptop.

"Great, do we have to go back to Port Talbot? Once in a lifetime is too much for that place." Owen grimaced.

"If that's where they are, that's where you go to get one."

"Or the parking lot." Ianto dropped the device on the conference room table with a metallic clang. "Half the world's cars have them, remember?"

"Good job, Ianto." Jack grinned. "Get to work Tosh." They stood and filed out of the room.

"So whose car did you disassemble to get it, Ianto?" Owen laughed. "Ianto? You bloody well better not have!"

Jack sat in his office and stared at the piles of papers that littered his desktop. "I can do this." He muttered to himself, "There has to be another way." But the more he looked the more he realized there was only one plan that could work. And the plan was suicide.

"Hi Jack." Gwen's cheerful tone was a stark contrast to the way Jack felt.

"It really isn't a good time right now." Jack sighed as a shadow fell across his desk.

"I know, but I was just thinking…" Gwen continued to talk, but as Jack stared at the files her voice withdrew into a distant hum in the back of his thoughts. There was one option… The Rift that had caused them so many problems, so many headaches, so many deaths… could he use it now to save them?

Whatever she'd been saying, Gwen came to a close with a, "So! What do you think?"

"What?" Jack looked up at the grinning face of his second-in-command. "Gwen? This really isn't a good time."

All Gwen managed was a strangled, "Oh!" as she turned on her heel and stormed from Jack's office.

Gwen hovered at Tosh's elbow and complained of Jack's insensitivity and callousness. Tosh tried her best to insert the "Oh!" "Hmmms" and "Know what you means" where appropriate. She glared at the Atmos device half-dismantled at her workstation. There had to be something… if she could only find it. As Owen wandered by the desk, she handed him the latest print-outs on the gas itself.

"Thanks." He mumbled as he looked at the new data.

"Anything there?" Gwen looked over his shoulder at the papers filled with chemical symbols and bar graphs.

"Don't know yet. That's strange though."

"What's strange?"

"Huh?" Owen looked up as if realizing for the first time that he wasn't alone. "The chemicals in the gas…"

Ianto took the small silver tray with him as he entered Jack's office. "Not a good time." Jack's voice was harsh and strained from fatigue.

"I know." Ianto's voice was a deep and soft counterpoint.

"Oh, it's you."

"You always know how to make me feel so wanted, Jack."

"Sorry. It's just-"

"I know." Ianto moved around the desk and placed the tray in the space that Jack had quickly cleared for him. He leaned against the desk's edge and folded his arms. Taking in Jack with his appraising, but nonjudgmental, gaze he continued, "You need a break."

"What I need, is an answer. A solution to…" he gestured wildly at the mess of files and papers scattered across the surface of the desk before him, "…to all this." Jack ran his fingers back and forth through his hair, scrubbing his scalp and leaving his hair standing at attention.

"Close your eyes." Ianto's deep voice urged gently.

"And when I open 'em again it'll all have been a bad dream?" the sarcasm in Jack's voice faded as he glanced briefly up at the sincere look on Ianto's face. Jack had already looked away, but felt himself drawn back to those eyes immediately.

The sparkling blue captivated him and Ianto repeated, softer still, "Close your eyes." This time, Jack did as he was told and Ianto continued, "Deep breath." Ianto's slow and calming voice took hold of Jack, making him want to give-in, to do whatever he was told. He could feel Ianto's fingers comb through his unruly mass of hair, smoothing it all back into its proper place. "Open wide."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Jack's lips as he contemplated all sorts of remarks that would inevitably prompt Ianto to tell him were inappropriate. Instead, he followed the directions. "Now close, but don't chew… or swallow." Jack could feel the small tablet on his tongue and pressed it to the roof of his mouth, testing it, tasting it. There, the chocolate melted slowly with the heat of his body. He resisted the urge to smash it with his tongue, instead letting it melt gradually on its own. When it was nothing more than a soft mass, almost a liquid, Jack finally allowed himself to press his tongue and the chocolate together. "No, eyes still closed." Ianto whispered the sing-song lilt of his Welsh accent intensified by the huskiness of his whisper. "Take a sip… Careful! It's hot…"

Jack let Ianto hold the mug for him and as the coffee flowed warm and milky over his tongue and the remains of the chocolate, he couldn't help but moan. "I'll take that to mean you like it," Ianto was smiling as Jack slowly re-opened his eyes.

"Absolutely." Jack actually found himself a little out of breath, as if he'd just run up a flight of stairs. Ianto pushed himself lightly away from his perch on the edge of Jack's desk and turned to retrieve the tray. Jack stood, noticing for the first time that Ianto had also somehow managed to organize the chaos of papers on his desk into neatly arranged and perfectly correlated stacks. Grinning now, Jack shook his head and reached past him to the bowl of chocolates that Ianto had removed from the tray and left for him as a paperweight. Selecting a chocolate, Jack placed it in his mouth and positioned his hands on Ianto's hips. He gently turned the young man to face him. Jack's hands traced upwards, to tenderly stop, cupping both sides of Ianto's face. "Close your eyes." Jack whispered. Ianto immediately obeyed and Jack drew their mouths together in a kiss. Ianto sighed deeply as he felt the warm melted chocolate pressed into his mouth. They remained there several moments after the taste of chocolate had long since faded.

"Back to work?" Ianto pulled back slightly and Jack longed to follow.

"Only if we have to." Jack thought of the full bowl of chocolates sitting, waiting on his desk.

"Fate of the world and all"

"Yeah, something like that. Don't want to though. Better things to do than save the world." Jack gazed at Ianto's smile and wished for nothing more than the time to get lost within it.

"You'll figure it out, Jack. I know you will." And as Ianto left him alone in his office again, Jack actually felt hopeful that there was a worthy solution somewhere out there, after all.