It's impossible to keep this light, given how it ended, (grumble grumble why doesn't Tosh EVER get a happy ending?) but I've tried to make it hopeful, at least.

There's a paragraph towards the end that probably won't make much sense if you haven't read 'Day of Vodka and Velvet', but it shouldn't be enough to ruin the whole story for you. (I hope).

Gentlemen from 1918 did a hell of a lot more than kiss on third dates.

It was funny, in retrospect, not that Tosh felt much like laughing as she guarded Tommy's sleep. Each breath chimed like struck crystal in the silence, filling her ears with the sound of life. Each breath signaled a new battle against the temptation to wake him, to see him smile, to feel his touch. Sleep felt like such a waste of the few precious hours they had left. And yet, Tommy hadn't had the pleasure of real sleep in so long, hadn't had a chance to dream, and Tosh couldn't deprive him of that, either. So Tosh lay on her side, watching her hero sleep, replaying what was possibly the best day of her life.

Tears pressed against her eyes, but Tosh smiled through them as she remembered sitting side by side on the pier, talking about nothing much while she tried desperately to decide which of her pre-rehearsed lines was least likely to send him fleeing in disgust. And she remembered herself rendered speechless – in the best possible way - as Tommy swooped in for a brief, slightly clumsy, but absolutely breathtaking kiss. Their first kiss.

Their first kiss. Innocent and sensual and perfect. Pure, if an action that left her drunk with desire could possibly be considered pure. But the perfection of the moment left Tosh feeling shabby by comparison. Guilty that she'd been ruthlessly planning to take advantage of her brave and beautiful boy.

Only to find he'd been doing the same thing. To hell with guilt. Tosh had just been offered a taste of heaven.

Of course Torchwood had to ruin it.

Tommy murmured in his sleep and Tosh trailed a single finger along his brow, smoothing away the tiny lines trying to form there. Even asleep and unaware, Tommy's face turned towards her touch, and Tosh's heart beat and broke, beat and broke.

Where was the silver lining in the cloud hanging over her bed? Where was the sweet to balance the bitter? Tomorrow he would leave for his own time, to his destiny. Tomorrow the fairytale would end. The sleeping prince would wake and leave to save the world, but there'd be no happy ever after.

Perhaps, Tosh mused, perhaps it was the threat of tomorrow which made tonight so precious. Perhaps tonight's treasure lay in its tragedy. Maybe the wonder of each second existed only because of what the morning would bring. It was something to think about, at least. Something to hold on to, when Tommy was gone and there was no point in rushing to the calendar anymore.

And yet, Tosh's soul cried out in protest. It could have been so perfect. They could have been perfect. But they only had tonight. One night, stolen from reality. Tosh's eyes smarted, from unshed tears and the foolish way she tried to fight against blinking. But they only had tonight, to sleep and wake and love. A few meager hours to grasp each moment and squeeze it for every drop of joy. One night, what remained of it, and Tosh didn't want to close her eyes in case she lost the battle against sleep, losing hours instead of seconds.

Tosh yawned, and blinked, and stared again, sealing each moment in amber to store in her memory forever.

Somewhere near the floor, her phone flashed. She'd promised not to turn it off, but she'd rebelled sufficiently to put it on silent.

Tosh stretched out an arm and captured the offending instrument. A message. A message from Ianto. Ianto, her friend and co-conspirator. The only one for whom she would break her vigil over Tommy's sleep.

Tosh crept soundlessly from the bed, stopping at a point near enough that she could still watch Tommy, far enough that the sound of her voice wouldn't wake him, and called Ianto.

"Are you all right, Tosh?"

From anyone else, it would have been a stupid question. Of course she wasn't. But the concern beneath the words soothed Tosh's wounded soul, and she knew that was why he'd called. She wasn't all right, alone, with Tommy sleeping away their seconds. But she wasn't alone now. She had a lifeline on the other end of the line. This call was what Tosh needed to remind her she wouldn't be alone tomorrow either.

"I'm good," Tosh answered. And she was, now. Perspective shifted, balanced. Tonight was good. All good. Tomorrow would be different, but she'd been making a mistake to let tomorrow bleed into tonight.

"How's Tommy?" Ianto asked next.

Against all likelihood, Tosh smiled. With her lips and her voice.

"He's good, too," Tosh said. "He's asleep."

Ianto's low chuckle echoed in her ear, showing Tosh he'd understood the words she hadn't spoken, too. "So is he," Ianto replied.

Tosh didn't have to ask who he was. She knew. Tosh smiled again, and found that she could laugh, as well. Softly, so as not to wake Tommy. But laughter, yes. Because tonight was good, and she'd lost sight of that, through trying to see too much.

It appeared tonight had another gift to give. A gift to both of them. The gift of clarity. An end to confusion. She and Ianto would have to find something else to occupy them over pizza and beer. Or Chinese and wine. Or sushi and champagne. Something to fill their nights other than discussing the confusion of their sexual identities. Because Tosh wasn't confused anymore, and Ianto didn't sound confused either.

"Hey Ianto," she whispered.

"Yes Tosh?"

"I'm so not gay." Not strictly true. Memories of Mary still lit a fire in Tosh's veins. But not tonight. Not with Tommy. Ianto would understand.

Ianto chuckled softly. "Hey Tosh?"

"Yes Ianto?"

"I so am." Not strictly true either. But again, true for tonight. True for now. True for Ianto, with Jack.

Tommy stirred in his sleep, perhaps roused by the laughter Tosh couldn't hold back anymore.

Tomorrow would break Toshiko's heart. Tomorrow Jack might break Ianto's heart, or mend it. Or Ianto might break Jack's heart, because it's hard to be careful with something you don't know you've been given. Tomorrow Owen would continue to pretend he didn't have a heart at all, while Gwen wore hers on her sleeve when she could have left it safely home in Rhys' caring hands.

But tomorrow was a world away from tonight. They'd deal with tomorrow when it happened. Tosh whispered her goodbyes, tossed the phone aside and scrambled back into bed, into warm arms and a sleepy embrace.

"Nice dreams?" she asked, drinking in the face beside her. Sipping, savoring a priceless vintage, not gulping greedily from an oasis.

"So nice," Tommy assured her, his voice thick with fatigue. "About you."

Tear prickled Tosh's eyes. Good tears. She blinked them away before Tommy could see, while Tommy tried to blink himself awake. Tosh leaned over and kissed his eyelids closed again. He'd been dreaming. No dreams in cryo-sleep. Tommy deserved this chance to dream and Tosh didn't need him to wake up anymore. She didn't need to drain the rest of their moments by wringing them dry. This was enough. This was perfect. Her lips moved from eyes to forehead.

"Let's go back to sleep, Tommy," Tosh murmured. She didn't need to fight her own sleep any more, either. After all, if she didn't sleep, she couldn't wake in the arms of the man she loved.

Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed.