Author's Note: Um. Sorry for taking so long? And sorry in advance for there not being a funeral scene. There wont be one for the next few, couldn't think of anything. All flash backs. Thanks so much for all the reviews and my silent stalkers, you guys are awesome. I'm working on finishing this, I really am. And here is where it REALLY crosses over with Doctor Who. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood or Doctor Who


"Words Better off Not Said"

Ianto snuggled down deeper underneath the large blanket that he was cocooned in. He felt his foot start to slip off of the couch and reached with his hand, pulling his rogue appendage back to the safety of the sofa. Ianto frowned as the blanket started to slip from his neck, leaving precious skin to fend for itself against the cold. He shrugged it back into place and closed his eyes, willing the trapped heat under the blanket to soak into his skin.

He opened his eyes to the sound of soft feet padding into the living room. Ianto gave a closemouthed smile as Jack entered the room, two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands.

"You're insane." Ianto muttered as he stared at Jack. The man was wearing only a pair of long pajama bottoms, and even those were made out of thin material. They were, in fact, a pair that Ianto had bought the man – they had lots of suggestive quotes printed at odd angles on the fabric. Jack had, of course, loved them and wore them when it got cold outside. The Welshman had no idea how Jack was able to deal with the cold. He himself was wearing a t-shirt and jacket, along with his thermal underwear and thick socks, and he was still on the verge of shivering. He blamed it on the winter – it was freezing cold and to save money, Jack didn't use the heat unless it was absolutely necessary. Apparently, a boyfriend freezing to death wasn't classified as an emergency.

Jack chuckled and eyed the heavy blanket with a curiosity. "You aren't naked under there, are you?"

Ianto just narrowed his eyes, refusing to remove the blanket to prove a point. Instead, he just stuck his hands up, the blanket molding around his fingers and making it look like two stubs sticking up under the warm material.

Jack raised an eyebrow and sat down as carefully as possible on the couch next to Ianto. He handed the brimming cup of steaming hot chocolate to the two stubs that were sticking out under the blanket, then took a sip of his own. Ianto accepted his cup with as much grace as a man swaddled in a heavy Star Trek blanket could, and tasted his drink, unable to suppress a sound of delight as the liquid tingled in his mouth, sending shots of warmth through his body.

Jack watched his lover, a smile on his face. Then, he slung his arm around Ianto and scooted closer, unable to resist placing a soft kiss on the man's cheek before sipping his drink again and gesturing toward the television. "Well?"

Ianto glanced up form his drink and his eyes shifted from the hot chocolate to the television to the remote that lay forlornly on the coffee table back to the beverage. Jack laughed when he saw what Ianto was doing, and the laugh grew louder as the frown grew on the Welshman's face.

"You're just gonna sit there." Ianto murmured, slightly cross. He leaned forward and sat the hot chocolate on the coffee table, letting out a shudder and a whimper as the cold air hit the newly unprotected areas of his neck. Ianto then grabbed the remote and sat back on the couch as quickly as possible, slipping the device under the blanket and aiming it at the television. His frown grew greater as the remote was unable to successfully send the message to the television box through the thick blanket.

Jack just watched, an amused look on his face. "It's called a snuggie, you should look into it. Good investment."

Ianto replied by taking his arm out from under the blanket long enough to chuck the remote at Jack.

The man laughed as the device hit his bare chest and plopped into his laugh. Jack aimed it at the television and cued the movie that had been waiting patiently in the DVD player. The beginning credits started to play, pop music filled the air, and the title screen for James Bond: Casino Royale came on.

Ianto smiled at the title sequence and dug deeper into his nest. Jack glanced at Ianto and smirked. In an impromptu moment, the man sat his hot chocolate onto the coffee table and then grabbed the edge of the blanket, un-tucking it from under Ianto's body and creating a large enough opening for him to sneak under. Jack suppressed a squeak of surprise from escaping through his lips as Ianto's ice cold skin came in contact with his. Ianto, however, let out a happy moan as the warm from Jack's body encircled him. The Welshman leaned into Jack, the blanket covering both of them as he curled into Jack's stomach and rested his head on the man's chest, his numbness and coldness fleeing the scene immediately.

They stayed like this for about half of the film, Ianto being too comfortable to move and Jack enjoying the feeling of his lover cuddling him. However, after a while, Jack couldn't stand the tingling sensation in his arm, and had to move. He shifted away, and chuckled at how Ianto moved with his body. "Yan, my arm's asleep."

"Shh, don't wake it up." Ianto said into Jack's chest. The American laughed and untangled his arm from the Welshman's waist and moved it around a couple times to get the blood flowing again. "What time is it?"

Jack raised an eyebrow at the random question, but leaned forward all the same, disconnecting himself from Ianto completely, reaching for his phone. He clicked the side button and glanced at the digital readout. Next to him Ianto sat up on the couch and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Little past midnight. Why?"

"Shit." Ianto said sleepily, causing a grin to crack on Jack's face. He was cute when he cussed in a sleepy voice. "I gotta go to work, early shift in a coupla hours."

Jack sat his phone back on the table before leaning against the couch, propping his feet up and stretching out. Ianto automatically leaned back down, his head landing in Jack's lap, his feet hanging off of the other end of the couch. The man groaned and shifted, his head coming to rest on Jack's warm stomach.

"Hey Yan." Jack said, his voice sounded unconnected, as if he was thinking hard.

"Hmm."

"You ever think about getting a better job?"

Ianto turned around so that he was lying on his back, the base of his skull digging into Jack's stomach. The Welshman's eyebrows were knit together in thought. His hand reached out to blindly grab the remote, the man almost falling off of the couch in the process. The television successfully being turned off, Ianto turned back to the question at hand. His fingers rubbed his eyes as he thought. "Why?"

Jack shrugged, and another long pause filled the room, this time unhindered by the distracting noises of James Bond. "This guy came into the bookstore the other day. Said he was looking for someone to do a paperwork job. Busy shit and stuff. Left his card. He works for this experimental company…though you'd want to call the guy."

Ianto thought about it. Jack had been bringing that up a lot lately – him getting a better job. He didn't know why Jack didn't approve of his career choice and it had been getting rather annoying. But Ianto was tired and really didn't want to go to work the next day, and he was tired of his job. "I'll think bout it."

Jack smiled and dipped his head down, connecting their lips. Ianto kissed him back, and the two men shared a spider-man kiss.

-xXx-

Ianto sat in the lobby of the large research facility, his hands wringing together, turning his skin red form the constant irritation. The chair he was in was too plush and overly-stuffed, he was falling into it and unable to sit up straight and be comfortable. His suit felt too small and too large all at once, and the perspiration that was slowly dribbling down his forehead and cheeks wasn't helping. He let out a long, shaky breath and reached into his jacket pocket for the umpteenth time, fingering the cigarettes that sat there. Five minutes – all he needed was five minutes. The receptionist at the enormous desk probably wouldn't even notice if he stepped out for a smoke. He had been waiting there for at least half an hour already, what would five more minutes be?

The room was large and leaked wealth. On the dark green walls there were lots of expensively framed photos, each depicting some important scientist who discovered cancer, or some founder who dedicated millions of dollars for research. Ianto knew that everyone in the ten story building had some sort of degree and had an IQ of over 130 – all those brain cells working toward discoveries that would change the world. It made Ianto feel very small and insignificant and increased the size of the word 'loser' that had floated around his mind since stepping foot on the carpet-laden floor. He wrung his hands some more, wincing this time at the dull pain his raw skin was giving off. His eyes darted around the large and unoccupied room, wishing that he hadn't taken Jack up on his offer. He could be home right now, talking with Tosh or getting ready for work the next day. Instead, he was stuck here, in a place that he didn't belong.

"Mr. Jones?"

The voice jolted Ianto from his thoughts and back into reality. He ran his sweaty hands down his suit jacket and stood up, taking a moment to steady himself. It had been a while since he had stood up, and his nerves weren't helping his light-headedness. He gave a weak smile and – with limited grace – approached the woman.

"Follow me." She said with a smile that was surprisingly warm and genuine for someone whose job description included smiling on a daily basis. That fact by itself made Ianto feel a bit better, but only a bit.

The office that Ianto walked into was even more intimidating than the waiting room that he had just left. The room basically oozed success. Plaques of recognition and certificates that the man had received covered the walls. A glass container sat on top of a large antique oak cabinet, which showcased all the awards that had been won. But that was about where the professionalism ended. The chairs were those plastic hand chairs that you saw at hippie stores, but instead of being made out of plastic, they were marble. Each wall – underneath the picture frames – was a different color. Among the frames, there was one random point on the wall that, instead of housing another plaque, was renting it's space to a piece of an old Police Box, the lettering resting on the blue wood which was nailed to the wall. Ianto wondered what the story was behind that.

The man's desk was, instead of being wood, a fish tank. Ianto could see the drawers that were carved out of the glass, the fish floating around them, minding their own business. On top of the desk it was like any other wooden desk – papers scattered about in such an un-orderly fashion that Ianto was itching to straighten them, a lamp that was currently off due to the natural lighting of the room, a laptop computer that was whizzing importantly, and photo frames whose backs were facing Ianto so he couldn't see who was in them. But, perhaps the most unusual thing in the room…was the man himself.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor behind his desk, his features marred by the water between Ianto and the man. His head was cocked slightly sideways in a position of thought as he gazed at the fish, completely lost in his own world. Ianto sat down in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs and waited. The clock on the wall – which was in the shape of a penguin – ticked slowly, and Ianto nervously fidgeted in the chair. Finally unable to take this strange silence, he coughed.

The man jerked as if surprised, then looked through the fish tank. "Oh, hello!"

He stood up and dusted himself off, giving a large smile before extending his hand. His features now in correct proportion, Ianto was able to get a real look at him. Defined cheek-bones, larger-than-average nose, with brown floppy hair and eyes that twinkled with excitement and out-of-this-world genius. He wore an off-pink dress shirt accompanied by a red bow tie that was slightly crooked, once again making Ianto's fingers itch to straighten it. There was a brown tweed jacket over him frame, almost hiding the red braces from view. Black pants without a belt finished the ensemble, and Ianto found himself going out on a mental tangent and questioning once again why Jack liked to wear a belt while sporting his braces.

Ianto reached out hesitantly and weakly grasped the man's hand. Ianto felt his arm start to shake up and down with immense speed and strength, and his eyes widened slightly at the force of the handshake. At the next possible moment Ianto withdrew him hand then uncomfortably sat down.

The man across from him did the same and spent a few minutes searching through the unorganized piles of paper on his fish tank. Ianto waited for a few moments, then quietly coughed again. "Erm…Ianto Jones, sir."

The man looked up, a large smile growing on his face as he furiously typed something into his laptop. "Yes, yes! Ianto Jones. Yan-toe. Love that name, rolls off the tongue."

Ianto tried not to run out of the room, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. The woman on the phone, when he had called to make an appointment, had seemed sane enough.

"Ah, but I haven't introduced myself, have I! Sorry about that. Anyway, I'm Doctor Matt Smith, but you can call me Doctor." He nodded, agreeing with his own statement, then leaned back in the chair and narrowed his eyes, his face suddenly becoming deadly serious as he glared at Ianto.

The Welshman shifted under the stare and swallowed. Wait – wasn't Jack's boss' nickname Doctor? That was going to be confusing.

"So, Ianto Jones." The Doctor paused, and Ianto found himself leaning slightly forward in his chair, curious as to where the last half of the sentence had gotten off to. "You work at a coffee shop, never finished uni, not really looking for a career. Right?"

Ianto swallowed again, and found that he couldn't – his mouth was too dry. He nodded timidly. "Y-yes sir."

"I see." The Doctor leaned forward, his hands clasping together and providing a resting spot for his chin. He stared directly into Ianto's eyes, and the Welshman was unable to look away. "I only have one question."

Ianto nodded, unable to trust himself to speak, scared that stuttering again would get him in some sort of trouble.

"Do you know your ABC's?"

"Sorry?" Ianto said before he could stop himself, completely caught off guard.

The Doctor raised his eyebrow and pushed off from the desk, sitting up straight. "ABC's, XYZ's, alphabet…why, do you Welsh have another word for it? You know, A B C D E F G…" The man started to sing the alphabet song under his breath.

"I…yes, sir. I do know my ABC's." This conversation could not be happening. Ianto was sitting in the office of one of the most brilliant scientists in England, and the man was singing the ABC song.

The Doctor's face burst out into a large smile and he stood up, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. "Brilliant! You're hired!"

Ianto just sat there for a second, his jaw on the floor. What had just happened? Had he really just been hired for a job because he knew the alphabet?

"You can start Monday – begin as a junior archivist. You'll raise in ranks quickly, especially since the competition for the head spot is you and the mold that is growing in the corners….hmm, need to get that checked. Again."

Ianto stood up slowly from the hand chair and gave a small smile, relief washing through him. He found that he actually liked the strange Doctor, after the shock of the whole interview had run it's course. "Thank you, sir."

"Doctor! Sir makes me feel old." He shriveled up his face for a moment. "And you should be thanking Jack – I'm glad he told me about you, knew as soon as he described you that you'd be perfect…a man with a tie is always neat."

Ianto frowned, something not adding up in the Doctor's words. "Wait – Doctor, did you say Jack told you about me?" Jack had told Ianto that the Doctor had come to the book store looking to put up help wanted signs, and Jack had grabbed a card on the way out. No where in their conversation had Jack said he had told the Doctor about him – and it seemed like the two of them knew each other personally, the way the Doctor was talking.

"Yes, he was at David's last week for dinner. Lovely, by the way, thanks for asking." The Doctor rambled on. He came to an abrupt halt, and silence filled the room for a few seconds as his eyes grew comically wide. Then, the Doctor slapped his hand over his mouth, sucking in a large breath and letting it out in the form of a groan. "Ah, bugger." He said, speaking through his hands.

Ianto pressed his lips tightly together, the only sign of the growing anger that was boiling inside of him. "Thank you, Doctor."

Then, Ianto turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Doctor Matt Smith in his office to guilt himself over what he had just spilled. He stood there for a few moments after Ianto had left, then the yellow fish in his tank did something a little less than extraordinary, and he was successfully distracted.

-xXx-

Jack was sprawled out on the floor of his writers room, papers under him and on top of him and all around him. His fingers flew over the keys, and his grin grew with every stroke. He had it now – the perfect idea. The book series that would secure his immortality. His short lived fiction about the World War II soldiers sat abandoned in the corner of his room, buried by some other thought that had invaded his mind. It had become one of the many forgotten plots that had once held Jack's attention. But the one he was working on now was different – he hadn't just thought it up out of the blue. He had been inspired.

He paused only long enough to take a sip of his water, and frowned as no liquid moistened his lips. Distracted, Jack took his eyes off of his computer screen and glared at the empty cup. His thirst strong enough to force Jack into action, the man sat up, groaned as his back complained. He had been lying in that position way too long. He stretched a bit, then minimized his word document and smiled as his wallpaper filled his vision. It was him and Ianto, kissing. The man hadn't even known that Jack had taken the photo, and would more than likely throw a fit if he knew that Jack had it. That thought, along with how cute they looked together, was enough for the American to keep it.

Jack finally finished his journey by standing up, hopping on the balls of his feet a few times to get blood flowing again before leaning down to grab his cup and treading lazily to the kitchen. He was filling his cup back up with water from his fridge when a knock sounded at the front of his door.

Jack frowned, having no idea who it could be. Ianto always called or texted before coming over, and his phone was free of missed calls or messages. Owen would show up at random times, but he was in London this week with Katie. Not sure who else would show up unannounced, Jack wadded over to the door, where he curiously looked through the peep hole. Surprised to find Ianto standing just outside, Jack opened the door and stepped back, allowing room for the man to enter. "Yan! What's wrong?"

Ianto walked through the door and slowly took his coat off, folding it then lying it carefully on the back of Jack's couch. The American watched him with worry – there was something wrong. The other man seemed to be composed and fine, but then again Ianto was always so good at hiding his emotions, except for those rare instances. But Jack noticed the little things, like how Ianto shoved his hands deep into his pockets and was pressing his lips into a thin, straight line instead of chewing on the inside like he normally did when first entering his flat.

"I just came from my interview." Ianto said, his words laced with hidden meanings and a message that Jack tried to decipher. The American frowned and crossed his arms.

"Did you not get the job?"

"No, I got the job." Ianto said, then Jack watched him hesitate, like there was something else he wanted to say. Jack gave him time, knowing that if the silence spanned long enough, the Welshman would eventually spit it out. And sure enough, it came. "Then, my new boss informed me that you talked him into giving me an interview."

Jack's body suddenly grew relaxed, and he laughed. That was it. The American had been scared that it was something serious. Jack had been a bit stressed at first when Ianto told him he had arranged for an interview. Matt came across strong sometimes, and he knew how Ianto dealt with meeting new people. But he had been hired, which was a good thing. So Jack smiled and moved forward, aiming for a kiss. "Yeah. Congrats, Ianto!"

But Ianto shirked away from him as he advanced, and Jack frowned. "What's wrong?"

"You could have told me. That you knew Matt Smith. Before sending me in there. Could have told me you arranged the whole thing instead of…instead of lying to me and making me thing that you had nothing to do with it."

Jack's frowned deepened and he crossed his arms in defense, his voice coming out a bit sharper than he had planned. "What's your problem? You got the job, and you can finally get out of that shitty coffee shop! Who cares how you got the interview?"

Ianto stiffened when Jack described the coffee shop, and a frown grew on the Welshman's face that mirrored Jack's own. "Do you really hate my job so much that you. - " Ianto drifted off and let out a long, shaky breath, biting down on his bottom lip hard. " – manipulate me?"

Jack set his jaw and adapted his angry stance, his feet slightly wider apart, his left hand on his hip, while his right one was used to make constant jabbing motions. "Yes, I do hate your job. What I can't believe is that you are doing something every day that you despise! Don't – " Jack cut Ianto off as the man went to contradict what he was saying. " – I know you hate it! The way you act, how you sound when you talk about it – that job is sucking you dry, Ianto! Don't you care? Don't you want to do something with your life? You're wasting away, earning barely enough to live. Look me in the eye and tell me you're happy! Tell me that, and I'll leave it!"

They stared at each other, Jacks anger fueled even more by the way Ianto was looking at him. It killed him, watching Ianto walk around and pretend that everything was perfect. He hated his job, always complained about it. But he never made a move to fix it, to make it better. Jack knew that Ianto had problems with self-esteem, and he knew they stemmed from his parents disowning him after finding out about his sexuality. Jack did everything he could think of to help Ianto realize that he was bloody brilliant – but no matter how much he pushed, no matter how much he tried to get Ianto to break out of his timid mold and do something about his problems, the man wouldn't budge. It was as if Ianto thought that he deserved to be miserable, and that was breaking Jack's heart. So yes, Jack had gone behind Ianto's back to arrange this job. Matt had promised not to tell – that way Ianto could get the job on his own accord. But Jack would never tell Ianto the reason behind his 'manipulation.'

"I don't like being used, Jack." Ianto whispered, his voice shaky with emotions, his eyes tearing up at the words. Jack watched as Ianto took his hands out of his pockets, his fingers clenched into fists. He watched as his lover screwed his eyes shut, trying not to cry. And all he wanted to do was hug him and kiss him and tell him everything was ok. But he couldn't – because Ianto didn't need that. He needed a wake-up call.

"I wouldn't have had to "use" you if you had done something for yourself for once! I don't understand why you do this – why you purposefully turn down everything that could fix your life! You are so smart – brilliant, even! I've heard you talk about everything! You could do so many things, Ianto! So many! Instead, you are stuck in a shitty, dead-end job that you hate!" Jack was yelling now, his voice growing louder and angrier at every word. His eyes stung, and the look that Ianto was giving him was enough to break anyone's heart, but Jack couldn't stop. Not now. "Is there nothing in this world that you are passionate about? Nothing you love? You have to be passionate about something, Ianto! It's what makes us human! Are you human? Sometimes I think you're just some kind of shell. A robot. Is that what you are?"

"Fine advice, coming from a worthless author who can't finish a fucking novel, and is working in a second-hand book store." Ianto had stopped trying to hold back his tears, and they flowed freely down his cheeks. He turned then, reaching out for his coat.

Jack stumbled back as if he had been slapped. Ianto's words dug deeper than the man could ever imagine, and Jack breathed heavily, mentally winded by the comment. He watched as Ianto picked up his coat and shrugged it on. He saw the tears, but was past caring. "Is that it then? You going to go outside and smoke your fucking cigarettes?"

Ianto didn't turn around, didn't say anything. Just kept moving toward the door, his shaking hand barely able to grasp the handle tight enough to turn it.

"Is this it, Ianto? Just gonna walk away! Not gonna say anything?" Jack kept yelling until his apartment door slammed shut. It was as if the door was closing on their relationship, and Jack lost it. He yelled profanities and turned around, tears falling down his face. He grabbed the trashcan in the kitchen and forcefully opened the drawers, searching for the lighter that Ianto had stored at his home. Jack found it, and then took his two newly acquired items into his writers room. He emptied out the trash can and set it in the middle of the room. Tears blurring his vision, Jack started to tear down all of the papers off of the walls and stuff them unceremoniously into the trash can. The drawings he tore into pieces before adding them to the bin. It soon became overflowed with paper, but Jack didn't notice. He kept stuffing sheet after sheet of his work – his legacy – into the bin, crying all the while as he did so. He at last came to the drawing of Ianto that he had done – his first complete piece of work. Jack stared at this for a few moments before bawling it up in his hand. A death grip on the ruined drawing, Jack unsteadily flicked the lighter on and, without hesitation, lit the end of the paper in the trash can on fire. It caught quickly, and slowly, steadily, painfully, Jack watched his life burn in front of him. He glanced around the room and zeroed in on his laptop that was lying on the floor, right where he left it. In rage, he picked it up and walked over to the single window in the room.

Jack forced the window to open, and then chucked his computer out, not even bothering to watch it fall to it's death. It was at that moment that the sprinklers that were built into his flat as a safety precaution recognized that there was a fire and sprung into action. Jack sobbed and landed his back against the wall, sliding down it until he hit the floor. And that was where he stayed, as the fire in his trashcan was put out and the sprinklers soaked him to the bone.

-xXx-

Ianto left Jack's apartment and didn't stop walking until he exited the building. The beyond-cold weather outside bit at his face, turning his tears into crystals that pinched his skin and wouldn't let go. A shiver coursed through the man's body, and ever ounce of him wanted to turn back and go into the warm apartment complex, but he wouldn't let himself. His hands dug deeper into his pockets and his right hand closed around what he was looking for – cigarettes and a lighter. It had been a while since Ianto had actually smoked, normally Jack served as his relaxation. However, since Jack was the source of Ianto's distress, he dug into the cancer-sticks without a second thought.

His fingers shook with coldness and emotion as Ianto attempted to light the fag. He didn't stop walking, didn't look where he was going as he poured all of his attention and focus into the singular task. Short on patience and still angry, Ianto suddenly chucked the cigarette as far away as possible and then let out a sob, falling against the wall of Jack's apartment complex. Ianto had unconsciously walked into the alleyway between that building and another. Alone, exhausted, and completely heart broken, Ianto felt his legs go out from underneath him and he fell to the ground, unable to even sniff, the cold freezing his nose.

Ianto replayed the fight over and over in his head. Jack's words morphed together with the words that Ianto's father had yelled at him all those years ago, and Ianto silently cried. What was he supposed to do now? Jack had become his life – the center of his universe. But now, Jack was pissed and angry and not only that, he had tried to manipulate Ianto.

The Welshman once again reached into his pocket, his whole body numb – and not just because of the cold. This time, he managed to light the cigarette, and brought it up to his lips. That little bit of warmth did nothing to sooth him, and he coughed a bit on the smoke. Still, Ianto brought it to his mouth again and again, until the stub was too short to smoke. He flicked it to the ground, stepped on it, and then lit another one.

Ianto would have sat there all night, smoking until he ran out of cigarettes, except, only a couple minutes after he had fallen to the ground, something came falling from out of the sky and crashed on the pavement directly in front of Ianto. Scared, Ianto let out several choice words as he scrambled to his feet. His fingers lost their grip on his fag, and it fell to the ground. He slowly approached the fallen object, frowning as the thing started to resemble a certain unanimated object.

It had broken into pieces as soon as it hit the ground, small slivers of technology spread out into a random pattern. There were a few large chunks, and when Ianto picked them up, he gasped. It looked just like Jack's computer.

Ianto spun and glanced up, automatically zeroing in on the window that was connected to Jack's apartment. It was open – which was strange enough in itself. But there was one thing that caused Ianto's heart to stop. There was a small stream of smoke lazily floating from the room.

"Oh god, no…" Ianto dropped the piece of equipment and started to run desperately back to the front of the building. The pain and biting words of the fight had been instantly forgotten as thoughts of Jack dying entered Ianto's mind. Adrenaline and fear caused him to run faster than he ever had before, and he made it to the front of the complex in record time. Ianto burst through the doors and had started up the stairs until he remembered that he didn't have a key. Cursing, he backtracked and knocked on the landlord's door.

A woman answered, giving a gentle smile. "Can I help you love?"

"I need Jack Harkness' key." Ianto said, his words rushed together in fear and desperation and short of breath from the running and smoking.

"Sorry hun. Only family and authorized individuals can get the spare key." She said, her voice sounding as if she wanted to help him, but had to abide by the rules.

"Please, I'm – I'm Jack's boyfriend. He might be in trouble, I have…" Ianto protested.

The woman pressed her lips together, then nodded. She disappeared, and what seemed like forever, but was only a minute, later, she returned, key in hand. Ianto grabbed it and let out a quick thank you before once again heading for the stairs.

There was no smoke in the hallway, that was good news. And the door wasn't hot or smelled like anything was burning. Ianto quickly unlocked the door and entered. He was hit by a weird smell – wet cat mixed with smoke.

"Jack! Jack!" Ianto called out, entering deeper into the flat. He finally got to Jack's writing room, which he flung open and entered without a second thought.

Jack was sitting in the corner, staring off into space, soaked to the bone and clutching a rumpled piece of paper. The walls were bare, and there was a huge pile of burnt paper and wet paper in the middle of the floor. Ianto's eyes widened. "Jack, what'd you do?"

Jack looked up and frowned a bit. "Yan?"

Ianto leaned against the doorway, relief flooding through him. Jack was ok. It was then, that Ianto realized how stupid he had been. He had gotten so worked up – so scared over such a little thing. The only thought that had been running through his mind since he saw the smoke was that Jack was doing something stupid, and that he would die angry. He would die angry at Ianto and he would never have the chance to say goodbye. "Jack…I'm so sorry. I-I was so stupid and it was such a idiotic thing and I overreacted and I'm sorry and I can't loose you please…"

Ianto was crying now. Slowly, Jack got up from where he was sitting and walked slowly over to Ianto, where he hugged the man with all he had. The Welshman didn't even complain about getting wet or the smell of fire. He just hugged back, collapsing into Jack. "I'm so sorry too Ianto. I shouldn't have gone behind your back…and you were right, you know. About me being worthless."

Ianto pulled back a bit and sniffed. "No…you were the one that's right. Almost right, at least."

Jack raised his eyebrow. Ianto gave a small smile, burying his face into Jack's chest and breathing in. His words were muted and blurred, but Jack still caught them. "I'm passionate about something…"

"What is that?" Jack asked, his hand slowly rubbing Ianto's back, mentally punishing himself on how close he had gotten to loosing the Welshman that night.

"Promise me one thing." Ianto said, veering off topic. Jack made a committal grunting noise. "Never leave me. Not like that."

Jack held Ianto tighter before pulling him far enough away to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Promise."

Ianto kissed him back, then hugged tight once more. They stood there for a little bit, caught up in the embrace. So much so, that Jack almost missed Ianto's whispered answer.

"You."


Yes. That last scene was a bit "Desperate Housewives"-ish, but I needed it, and hey, JB was on that, so I think it's ok. ^_^

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