A/N: Well, it was a little later than I thought, but eh, same day deadline counts for something. I dunno if this is as funny as the last, but it's still got its humor. Humor. No extra 'u.' Got two more coming soon too. Most likely only one-shots. All typos are mine too. Not beta-ed. And if they seem OCC, my bad. If my Jack is overly protective, then I like a badass Ianto that pushes Jack's possessiveness. Like tattoos and leather and piercings, badass Ianto. Now that is hot. Back on track, this chapter is the last of Theft of a Hustler, but not the end of the AU, which needs a better name. I don't like Meddling!AU. It needs something flashy and stylist, not Scooby-Doo-ish. Even though I love Scooby-Doo. Remember, all credit goes to mattmetzger, who I hope I pleased with this story and made him proud. Reviews keep me going, otherwise I'll quit. Low self-esteem, people, c'mon. Nah, kidding, but seriously. Review. Do it. Then get in the chopper.

Jack knew he was going to be in deep shit. In his defense though, it wasn't like he knew the crazy bastard would be waiting in Ianto's flat. Even if that would be a logical thought when related to insane, crazy, abusive, pushy, Torchwood One, ex-boyfriend. Jack just never had the thought processes of a typical 21st century man. Yet, he knew that Ianto would be pissed. It wasn't even the death of a hideous lamp that would make the Welshman angry, nor the fact that his flat was broken into. He would get in trouble because his non-dying ass didn't tell anyone else where he was going when possibly entering a dangerous situation. Which made no sense to Jack. He believed that the whole immortal thing would be a great reason to send the non-dying person into the most dangerous situations. However, infallible 21st century logic denied that.

After collecting the basics in a duffle bag and feeding the Devil himself, wearing orange fur with claws, Jack made sure the door was secure. Bastard must have picked it. Which means Ianto knew how to pick locks. Jack had to remember to see if he could pry out what other naughty things Ianto knew from his 'darker' side of life. He grabbed the duffle bag full of street clothes while forgetting the suits laid out on the bed as he took off back to the Hub. He'd have to make a mental note about getting a new lock for the door or an alarm system put in.

Driving as if he were in Death Race, he made it back to the Hub hoping it was before Ianto would stir. At least if the man was still groggy, he wouldn't get ranted out for being at risk, even if he didn't stay dead, just to fetch Ianto some clothes when he had some stashed in Jack's drawers without Jack really paying attention. Just like how Jack stashed some clothes, among other things, at Ianto's flat without, or so he thinks, Ianto knowing. Although, Ianto knows everything, so it was unlikely. He might even miss the threat of decaf.

Taking the steps as quietly as possible, Jack dropped the duffle bag in his office before realizing he left Ianto's suits. He promptly cursed under his breath and rubbed at his eyes, trying to forget what had happened this ridiculously early morning and remember anything else he could have possibly forgot.

"Too early." Jack was startled as two arms wrapped around him. The familiar presence pressed against him and the warm puffs of air against his neck was reassuring.

Spinning around, Jack tapped the loose arms around his waist to resettle around his neck while tugging the younger man into the warmth of his greatcoat he hadn't put up yet. "You should still be asleep where it's warm." Jack started to slowly sway them in place as Ianto pressed his nose to Jack's throat. He took delight in noting that Ianto had shrugged on Jack's larger shirt from last night to keep warm from the Hub's almost freezer like quality. It was too long on the man and loose around the torso, proving that Ianto still wasn't eating quite right, but Jack was still working on that.

"M' heater left the bed." Ianto groaned and, if the man had been more awake, Jack was sure he was glaring at him through closed eyes.

"Thought you might want a little more space to stretch out." Jack chuckled.

"Fuck space."

"Always so eloquent in the morning, sweetheart?"

Ianto snorted, "Yes, get your sodding ass down into the rabbit hole so Alice here can go back to bed." Jack laughed heartily before swatting Ianto on the ass and dancing out of his reach. Ianto picked up the closes thing to him, which luckily happened to be a tissue box, and tossed it at Jack, but missed.

Jack jumped down the man hole, waiting for Ianto to join him. He stood at the bottom to help as Ianto came down, but unexpectedly the duffle bag came flying down at his head. He yelped and made a hasty retreat, wanting to dodge anything else. Ianto came down next, not looking anymore awake than before, headed straight to the bed in favor of going after Jack. With a growl similar to a tired dog, he pointed at the bed through half-mast eyes until Jack faithfully stripped and climbed in. Ianto slid in next to him until they were both on their sides, curled up on the pitiful bed. "Where 're you?" His Welsh so thick Jack would have to have a jackhammer just to dent it.

"Just getting you some clothes for later today."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"So the brok'n glass?"

Oh, fuck.

Well, Jack thought, guess Ianto wasn't that asleep. He should have known better. Honestly, he shouldn't have thought Ianto any less coherent than any other time. The man could be stoned to hell and back, and still know how to fix the universe from imploding. So Jack took the weaker man's path. "You should get some more sleep rather than stay awake." Jack cheered mentally as he watched Ianto yawn.

"Brok' that ugly lamp, didn' ya?" Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I cleaned it up though." Jack gulped.

Ianto snuggled further into Jack's hold allowing his eyes to slide shut comfortably. "Now ya see why I didn' go home." Snorting through his nose, he continued, "Knew he'd be there."

Jack's stomach bottomed out. Licking his lips nervously, he pulled Ianto closer. The man sighed in his hold, but Jack knew it was from the warmth and safety and comfort and the feeling of home that they both refused to acknowledge, but knew was there. The nervousness remained even as Ianto's breathing started to even out without any signs of worry or fear.

"Ya okay, hmm?" Ianto barely got out.

"Yea, sweetheart. Yea, I'm alright. Only the lamp." It softened Jack to know that even as an immortal, this young man still worried whether a lamp is what did him in or not.

Yawning around his words, Ianto realized he had to repeat himself in English this time, "Good. Hated that piece of shit." Barely before the last syllable was spoken and the man was already softly snoring. Jack still felt uneasy, but relented into a doze until morning.

"Jack. Jack! Jack!" Jack's feet hit the floor before he was even fully awake, reaching for his gun. The only thing in the room though was a still exhausted and very irate Ianto staring him down. His arms over his chest and his hips canted to one side. His jean covered hips. That were tighter than a sushi roll. And in all the calorie burning right ways. Ianto snapped his fingers as if Jack was a dog, "Eyes up here!"

Licking his lips unconsciously, his eyes met slightly amused, but mostly irritated ones. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't by chance grab any suits, did you?" Jack knew better than to answer. Ianto already knew; he was just fishing for the many wrong answers.

He stared for a moment, and then spoke the first thing that came to mind, "Have I mentioned that you look much younger in those jeans?" Which happened to be the wrong thing to say.

Ianto's face was having such a hard time this early in the morning on which expression would show how terribly wrong that answer just was. The tendons in his hands were visibly flinching to either choke the man before him or throw something very hard and very heavy. All Jack could do was swallow and adopt a dopy grin, hoping that early morning stupidness would be an acceptable new medical condition that only he had. "Is this all you picked up for me?"

Afraid he might say something else that could possibly make him sleep on the doorstep of Ianto's flat rather than just the sofa, he nodded. Ianto threw his hands up and spun back to the in suite bathroom. Jack thanked whoever gave a shit up there while staring at Ianto's ass. That should be illegal.

"You're drooling!"

Jack ran.

After the initial Welsh stammering that turned into her leaving something in her car from Gwen and the blushing joined with Cantonese from Tosh, Ianto took off to the cells, where even Janet was staring at his ass. It wasn't his fault he got stuck in his old university jeans and some grubby band t-shirt he had stashed for out in the nightlife and it sure as hell wasn't his fault that Jack must have had to dig in his wardrobe to find them. Grumbling as he fed the inmates, he kept feeling like the CCTV cameras were on him. Debating on making a bet with himself on which one of the other problematic inmates it could be, his phone went off, alerting him of a text. Fishing it from his pocket, Ianto carelessly tapped at the screen until it blinked on.

1 Unknown Text

Deciding he'd take the risk of whatever it is, most likely some debtor company with the wrong number, he locked up Janet's cell with an exasperated huff of annoyance and clicked the open button on the text.

Those jeans always did look good on you, little sparrow.

Ianto froze. His heart made a mad, clenching stop with full breaks while is diaphragm seized with unholy joy. Logically, it could be anyone else in the entire bloody universe who typed the wrong number. Hell, it could be Jack being a dumbass or Owen still drunk from last night or his old pensioner who lived in the flat across the street that just so happened to have binoculars next to the window that peered into his bedrooms. Anyone. Ianto found his lungs once more as they pumped harshly, resembling a panic attack. Alright, so the odds were not in his favor when it came to the nickname he once thought loving. Maybe it was another Russian man in which he had no correlation to. Ianto hissed to himself and mentally berated him for his stupidity. Yeah Yan, maybe it's a Russian man from outer space that just so happened to get your phone number.

The phone went off in alarm again. He fiddled with it in his hands, knowing the only way this was possible. His eyes wandered up to the camera in the corner of the room staring at him. He clicked the text open.

I want you.

Ianto took three deep breaths and turned tail. Making it up the steps into the main Hub, Owen's tenor assaulted his ears with moans of needing coffee and obviously drunk comments about how Ianto looked a whole hell of a lot sexier in that than a suit, where Jack promptly offered Owen a deal. Owen vehemently declined. As calm as he could pull off, Ianto reached his desk where he loaded his gun, grabbed two spare magazines, and his keys. Tosh must have saw, because she cleared her throat suspiciously while trying not to be conspicuous. It wasn't working.

"Maybe I should get you something for that cough, Tosh." Owen poked his head over the railing to the autopsy bay.

"It's nothing, just some allergies. Although, Ianto, maybe you could help me make some tea so I know how to make it at home," Her eyes never left him or the gun he had hidden in his waist band without anyone seeing, but her.

"I'm currently out of that, but I'll just hop down to the store and pick some up." His eyes pleaded with hers. "Oh and Tosh, dear, I need you to run that Code Yellow forty one program."

Tosh looked startled, but she understood exactly what he meant.

They had come up with a security program system while bored late on winter day when Owen and Gwen had decided to send the Hub into a lockdown my toying with alien technology that both Ianto and Tosh had clearly said not to. They sat with a spare computer making up colours and numbers and crazy names for some of the most simplistic of security protocols that would one day come in handy. Code Yellow forty one just happened to mean that someone needed to be followed cautiously on a computer as they moved about. Ianto had come up with the forty one representing the two Torchwood facilities that had 'passed on;' Four and One. Tosh came up with the yellow representing the caution on a stop light.

Alcohol had been involved in the naming process.

Jack perked up as soon as Ianto in his, what he now deems the Holy Grail of Clothing Articles, jeans had walked in. The mentioning of Ianto going out and a program starting sent alarms off in his mind. With all the air of an employer and Captain, he narrowed his eyes at the two, "What exactly is Code Yellow forty one?"

"Just a simple test to track down artifacts in the Archives faster."

Jack watched every movement Ianto did very carefully. He couldn't say he was a professional on Jonesian, the language of all Jones, but he knew plenty about that body. Yet, Jack could never be sure. Jack was sure of it though. Ianto Jones should have been in Hollywood. They could have played him in a sort of Die Hard action thriller, but with aliens in which Ianto would save the world many times over without anyone knowing, and dressed as a cowboy. With tight leather chaps. Wasted opportunities.

"Would you like Owen or someone else to go out and get some tea?" Owen's squawk of protest was ignored between the penetrating gaze Ianto had just turned on Jack. It was searching and defensive. The same look he got right after Lisa when he showed up unannounced on Ianto's doorstep with take out and aspirin. The same look he got right after the cannibals. The same look after John. The same look after his return with the Doctor. Now, Jack knew shit was about to go down. And it was going to end nasty.

"It's fine. I'll only be a minute."

Ianto trudged out the heavy door, intent on ending whatever this was becoming. Yet, he knew that with Kane, the least expected was reality. Walking slowly to his car, and checking his surroundings, he waited for what he knew was coming. Ding!

Tapping his phone to life once more, he popped the text open.

Warehouse 17, 214 N. and Center Streets. The car is safe.

Running his fingers under the ridge of his door handle, just in case, assured him very little, but he flipped the handle and released it instantly. When the car didn't explode to Kingdom Come, or make a ticking noise, he got in and turned her ignition over with the door open. Slamming on the gas was probably a bad idea with how the squealing would resonate through the parking garage and alert anyone watching that something other than a quick jot down to the Co-Op, but he had other things on his mind.

Jack's attention fell on Tosh quicker than a rabid ADHD squirrel seeing crayons. He stared her down as he approached slowly. Tosh tried to her best not to look conspicuous, but her attempts failed when a heavy hand settled on her shoulder and Gwen's gossip radar went off, poking her head just above her computer to look at Tosh and Jack. Even Owen knew shit was going down as his eyes popped up over the railing of the Autopsy Bay. He had to be standing on tip toes or on a book he never read, but secretly used as a step stool. "Toshiko."

Tosh licked her lips and swallowed slowly. She knew that voice; the one that always commands answers while sounding like a scolding father. "Yes, Jack?" She squeaked unwillingly.

Jack smiled triumphantly. He knew he won with an unfair advantage, but he still won, and that could mean life or death for Ianto. His stomach gave an uneasy turn. "What is Code Yellow forty one? Really?"

Tosh cracked faster than Humpty Dumpty, but in her case, there were not going to be any handsome King's men to put her back together again. She didn't see Gwen in that way and Owen was as far from a knight in shining armor as humanly possible. Which left the only true shining hero, whom might actually be a shadowy rogue, Ianto, but he wasn't there to dash away with her in his fiery, red, six-speed stead. Tosh could go on for ages about how amazing Ianto is and how lucky she is to have him as a friend. "It's a tracking device that connects to someone's personal mobile phone or vehicle!"

Jack's brow rose in interest, but Gwen spoke up first, "So Ianto is tracking someone?"

"No," Tosh shook her head as if it was the most logical thing in the world, "I'm tracking him."

"But that doesn't make sense. Can't you just call him? He's only going to the mart real quick."

Tosh sighed at the intelligence levels she had to deal with outside her personal sphere of Ianto, her, and some geeks she talks to on the internet about new games online. "If I'm tracking him than obviously he isn't going to the mart."

"Then where is he?" Jack growled, breaking up the argument between the two ladies.

She brought up the program and entered a specific code for Ianto's car. "Looks like a warehouse on North and-."

The Rift alarm went off. Tosh pulled up the readings, "Two Weevils near a primary school down on South End."

"Gwen, you and Owen, take the Weevils. Tosh you stay here to relay information." Jack swept his greatcoat up and holstered his gun.

"What about you?" Owen questioned, but he already knew the answer.

"Bringing home my tea boy."

Kane stood there in his sports jacket and graphic shirt and the pants that Ianto and he had smeared paint on after a playful fight turned into something more as they painted the walls to their new flat. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning. He seemed relax, but with that underlying stance of alertness. It was the type of look someone has when they are taking inventory. He was looking for changes, the sign of age, scars, and things of remembrance.

Ianto, he suspects, looked the same way.

Kane made the first move; just a step. Ianto knew this game well; knew that Kane was testing his boundaries, getting a feel of the lay before he made his strike. This time, Ianto wasn't going to stand down or roll over. He wasn't going to bow. Ianto picked up a gait that was more of a swagger with silent confidence and hidden danger. Kane tipped his head back in acknowledgement and a raised brow of surprise. Ianto was going to make sure he took control of this game, and he was sure that he could. Knew that he could. One foot in front of the other with a slight sway of his hips and the straight back with the squared shoulders. All it is a game, he kept as a mantra.

Soon, Kane's footsteps joined his. They were pulling towards one another in a resemblance of a star carelessly moving towards a planet; it's gently caress of promised destruction. Their gravitational force grew until their bodies collided. Sharp bites and forced mashing of lips. Their hands tugged at the other's clothes, clawing, scratching, and digging. They gripped one another close while trying to push the other away. It was a familiar battle of wills, just with more enthusiasm; more power. Shirts were pushed up over firm chests, but not removed, and wandering hands played close to the tops of jeans.

Ianto was picked up into strong arms as he attacked the other man's neck. His limber legs wrapped around Kane's hips. Kane started moving towards something, but Ianto was preoccupied with tugging at his hair and latched his teeth into Kane's neck. Once he collided with something solid against the back of his thighs did he then pay attention. The desk he was sat on was dirty with dust and debris, but it didn't seem to bother either man. Ianto lay back as Kane's hands drifted to his belt.

The resounding click of guns cocking broke the silence.

Ianto had stolen Kane's revolver from its hidden holster and had it pushed against Kane's heart. On the other hand, Kane had tugged Ianto's handgun from his waist band and had settled it against his forehead. Ianto smirked up at the other man, "Touché."

Kane's laugh reverberated in the empty spaces of the warehouse, "Suppose we are at a standstill, except," Kane licked his lips while he move the handgun into Ianto's inner thigh, "my gun isn't loaded." He pulled the trigger.

All there was, was a click of the unarmed gun going off.

"So was mine."

Ianto smiled. Slamming the now useless revolver into Kane's shoulder, he got enough space and movement to rear back a leg then kick out with all the force he could into Kane's abdomen. The man staggered a few steps back in order to keep his balance, but dropped the handgun. Sliding down to the floor quickly, Ianto picked up his discarded handgun and shoved a full clip into it. He spun around to face Kane, who had also gone for his gun and reloaded it. The two just stared at one another, guns unwavering.

"You could come back to me. It doesn't have to be like this. You could leave that pitiful male whore and come back to where you belong."

"He's a better man than you ever were or will be."

"He could barely hold his own against me."

"Not everything is about strength or power."

"Then he's made you weak like a no good, begging slut."

Two guns shots echoed in the large space. Ianto leaned to one side as a bullet bit into the flesh of his ribs, just a flesh wound. Kane's two handed hold on the revolver loosened as one arm took a bullet in the shoulder and the grip fell. However, both men never let their stare wavier. From the point of a bystander, it would have looked choreographed. In perfect synch, the two men dropped their guns and lunged at the other, spitting, hissing, kicking, and punching. Pure sweat and muscle and power and hatred and brimstone clashed together in fists and flesh. Ianto finally got the upper hand as he flipped Kane over and pinned him.

"Ianto!" Jack's voice rung out in the warehouse.

"Jack!" Too surprised, Ianto dropped his guard to look up and find Jack, but before he realized his mistake, Kane was on top of him with a knife. Jack appeared from a hallway within a heartbeat, gun drawn, and pointed at Kane. "Let him go!"

Kane smirked at Jack, digging the knife a hair's breathe into Ianto's throat. "Thought we already had this conversation. Ianto is coming back to me." Carefully lifting up his sleeve, Kane stared down at Ianto fiercely.

Jack's heart turned to ice at the leather wrist band around Kane's arm. It was a Time Agent's Vortex Manipulator, but not just any Time Agent's, it was a commanders.

Kane hit a button on the wrist band. He and Ianto disappeared into a flash of gold, before Jack could even get a round off. "Ianto!"

Jack pressed buttons over and over again, Tosh screaming in his ear. Ianto's signature was not appearing anywhere on Earth. Crumpling to his knees, Jack persisted. He typed the same commands over again and again, looking for signatures, or Time Agent serials. Each time the readings were the same; negative. Jack felt panic choke him, his breathing ragged and his heart beat stuttering with fright. Wiping at his eyes every few minutes, Jack continued on even after Tosh had resigned herself to crying in Jack's ear. He only stopped long enough to move from the freezing cement floor to Ianto's vehicle, where it smelt like Ianto, and where his desperation took control. For hours he sat there checking again and again for anything. But nothing ever showed.

He locked Ianto's car, leaving it for when, not if, Ianto came back, he had some way to come home. He didn't remember driving nor did he know how exactly he got back to the Hub, but the SUV sat unharmed next to Gwen's car and Ianto's empty space. Don't think about it. His limbs felt like lead as his footsteps echoed loudly, too loudly. He dropped himself onto the sofa behind Tosh's workspace, where Tosh, herself, sat. Owen and Gwen must have been told what had happened somewhere along the way, as Gwen's lips trembled feebly and Owen's normal attitude was muted.

They sat around for another three hours, talking, planning, and sitting in silence. Jack continued to check about on his wristband, but nothing showed. Owen had called it quits that night, dragging Gwen home to Rhys, while Tosh stayed with Jack on the sofa. The two stayed in quiet companionship; Tosh's sobs muted and Jack's uncomprehending speechlessness rendering the area silent. Only a couple of hours later and Owen returned. He sat next to Tosh and pulled her against him, just waiting. "You know the tea-boy. Bloody bastard will be back before it's bright and early for work. Act as if nothing happened with a flip of his God damn hand and a roll of his eyes. All posh suits and sarcasm."

Gwen came back half an hour later, with fresh coffee that no one really touched cause it felt all too familiar, and sat at Tosh's abandoned station. Her eyes still red and puffy and her mouth opened to speak what no one wanted to hear, but the look on Jack's face must have stopped her from saying all the things on her tongue.

Jack couldn't think; didn't know what to do. He didn't want to place a name for the feelings he shouldn't be having. It wasn't right; the clenching of his heart and the sick twisting feeling in his stomach. He knew what they were, but he didn't want to admit it, especially to himself. He was Captain Jack Bloody Harkness, and God dammit, he was not supposed to do monogamy and special occasions and depending on people and wanting to do everything and anything for them and wanting to be domesticated and wanting a home with someone else outside the Hub and God buggering dammit, love. The great immortal of everything wrong and fixed point in time shouldn't want to settle down and fall in love with a mortal that would leave him wretchedly heartbroken. But he did and Ianto did and now he was stuck.

They must have knocked off as a group, because once the Rift alarms went off, all of them groggy eyed and yawning, jumped from their skins. Tosh scrambled over her own feet to get to her sleeping computer, shrugging a slow moving Gwen just out of her way to look over the readings. Her gasp caught the other's attentions. Mumbling to herself as she clacked away at her keyboard, sent Jack prodding at buttons on his wristband until the damn thing finally dinged. Surprisingly though, his phone rang first with an unexpected name on caller ID.

"Ianto?"

"Stay right where you are and tell Owen to be ready with a med-kit." Ianto sounded tired and edgy, but whole and alright and here. He hung up on Jack, leaving him confused, but excited.

Before he could finish giving out orders, the familiar golden glow of the Rift appeared in the middle of the Hub as something very heavy dropped to the metal grating that sent a pounding reverberation through the Hub. The suspension of the vehicle took the blow easily as it bounced from a couple feet fall. However, it wasn't the fact that Ianto's car just dropped into the middle of the Hub through a golden portal from God knows where, but the fact that said man was sitting, hunched over on the hood of the vehicle, grimacing from the jostling.

"Ianto!" His feet took him unconsciously to the man before reasonable thought caught up. Scooping the man into his arms, he started to give him a crushing hug when teeth sunk into his shoulder, forcing him to back up.

"Dammit, Jack, careful!" Ianto was growling like a wet cat with more of a look of pain than anger on his face. That's when Jack realized the bloodied spots across Ianto's shirt and jeans; even some with holes that looked far too similar to bullet holes for Jack's liking. While Owen went about cursing and spitting about Ianto's complete lack of self-perseverance and questioning if he could ever, just once, not get himself harmed in some way, Jack had settled to holding Ianto's hand, refusing to let go.

"There are only two bullet wounds, but they're clean through and through." Owen said in his most formal doctor's tone possible after patching up the last cut and graze. "Take it slow and easy for the next few days." He patted Ianto on the shoulder and handed him two of the good pain relievers. "Care to tell us what happened? Or where you went?"

Ianto couldn't help himself. His face lite up into the Devil may care grin that made him look madder than a hatter, making Owen take a step back. "Found out Captain John Hart is a bloody child at heart." He pushed himself off the hood of his car where Owen was cleaning him up.

"Huh?"

Ianto shrugged with one shoulder while his other hand tightened around Jack's tugging him closer. Using his free hand, Ianto fished something out of his pocket and tossed it at Owen, who caught it swiftly. "I'm tired." He pulled Jack behind him; heading to Jack's sleeping space.

"Where did you get this?" Owen called to him, dangling the purple and green mouse looking keychain from his finger.

"Disneyland," Ianto snorted, "From Vegas Four."

The two had settled down carefully; Jack making sure he didn't touch any of Ianto's wounds. He eyed the two wristbands resting on the small table next to the bed as Ianto breathed slow and even in sleep. His hand strayed on its own as it wandered up and down Ianto's spine. Just to feel Ianto's pulse under his finger tips and the shifting of muscle under skin calmed Jack, soothing him from the day's earlier scare. He pressed his lips to Ianto's temple, leaving them there.

"Thinkin' way too loud, git."

Jack chuckled. Same old Yan. "Sorry, sweetheart."

"Hmm." Ianto yawned into Jack's neck, scraping teeth down his throat as if on accident, but Jack knew better. "W'at's wrong?"

"What happened?" That seemed to wake Ianto faster than ice cold water.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling loudly, Ianto stalled for time. "Got teleported somewhere, fought a little, then got my hands on the wristband. Teleported myself to the nearest planet."

"But how did you know how to use the wristband?"

Ianto snorted, "I know everything."

Jack looked skeptical, "You're telling me you could have used my wristband whenever you wanted?"

"Thank you Torchwood One's Archives. That's where he got that one. It's why I knew how to use that one in particularly."

Jack swallowed, knowing that this could go wrong at any moment. "What happened to him?"

Silence followed and Ianto's body tensed.

"Sweetheart?"

"He won't be bothering us anymore," Something dark rung in Ianto's words that sent shivers down Jack's spine, but sent his heart aflutter with the use of us. "So, can I keep it?"

Jack's mind stumbled over the change in topic, "The wristband?"

"Yeah, why not? I know how to use the damn thing." He sounded more calm and relaxed; groggy even.

"I suppose," Jack pouted and whined, "But this means yours is bigger and has more stamina!"

Smirking, Ianto leaned closer to Jack, "Could show you something else like that," He bit into the soft skin of Jack's throat over his pulse.

Jack grinned devilishly, "Could do it in the backseat of your car and not even leave the Hub."

Pushing himself up, Ianto smiled triumphantly, "Race you." He took off at a bolt.

"Hey!" Jack untangled himself to follow. "And you have to tell me about Disneyland!"