Title: Annual Report
Author: TheRani
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: AO
Author's Notes: I will cheerfully confess I just spent 2 weeks in London last month. The Standard Indian is a real restaurant, awesomely good. While power walking in Hyde Park one morning, I had this image of Jack and Ianto and the tree churning through my brain. Hence most of this was written on the airplane on the way home.
Summary: Once a year Torchwood 3 must deliver its annual report to the head office. It's part of Ianto's job. And not a terribly pleasant one. Too many memories.

***

Ianto Jones stood on the tube train, one hand gripping the overhead rail. He was vaguely paying attention to the tube station names as they went past, heading toward the Canary Wharf Station. Dark suit, snowy white shirt, subdued tie, briefcase hanging on his shoulder by the strap. As archivist, it fell to him to deliver the annual report to Torchwood 1. He didn't really like to think too hard about his memories of previous events in London. It was decidedly unsettling to be heading there at all. He chewed his lower lip and tasted blood. Great, he had cracked his lip in nervousness. The train lurched to a halt and he got off. People streamed up the escalators past walls of steel and glass. It made him think of cybermen, and what they had done to Lisa, and he shuddered. He walked the block and a half to the Tower. From the base, the pyramid shaped top wasn't visible.

He took the elevator to the 35th floor, swallowing hard at memories of weapons fire and screams. He carefully schooled his features and walked down the hallway toward the executive assistant's desk.

"Ianto Jones. I have an appointment with Mr. Vengaza," he said.

"Yes, sir. You're expected," replied a slender woman. She showed him into Vengaza's office. Vengaza was a man of moderate height and dark slicked-back hair.

"Mr. Jones. I trust your annual report is in order?" he said.

"Yes, sir." Ianto extracted 3 bound copies from his briefcase along with a CD. Vengaza thumbed open the top copy and glanced at the table of contents and a few pages.

"It will take me at least a day to review it. You will be staying in the city until tomorrow I assume?" said Vengaza.

"Yes. You can reach me on my mobile." Ianto handed him a business card with an email address and a phone number on it.

"Very well. I will contact you tomorrow then."
They shook hands and Ianto walked out of the office. He didn't like Vengaza. He was a "post- battle" hire and while he didn't actually do anything to harass Torchwood 3, he was a bit of a nit-picker. A hopeless bureaucrat. Ianto was very sure there would be questions tomorrow. Probably trivial minutiae. One more task, a lengthy one. He had to renew his security clearance. Fingerprints, retinal scan, blood and DNA, voice print, the whole 9 yards. Everything that assured he could maintain access to the entirety of the Torchwood database.

In the security office, he shrugged out of his suit coat and rolled up his shirt sleeve. The tech was totally impersonal but efficient in drawing blood. Ianto popped his cuff link back in and picked up his jacket. Retinal scan next. The digitized voice instructing him to remain still for the full 5 sec thoroughly unnerved him. The place, the voice, the memories too close to the surface. He felt cold sweat trickling down his spine and struggled to keep his breathing even as visions of cybermen flitted through his mind. And Lisa. By the time he was finally finished, he grabbed up his briefcase and jacket and strode for the elevator.

He took the tube back, getting off at Kensington High St and walked through the park. He was meeting Jack for dinner at the Standard Indian restaurant. It probably would have been more expedient to go to the Bayswater station but he was still feeling completely rattled by the trip to the Canary Wharf tower. Cutting through Hyde Park would get him away from the press of the people on the tube and maybe give him a chance to calm down a bit. It was clouding over and a damp breeze blew through the trees. Ianto walked slowly and glanced at his watch. He had over 40 minutes till he was supposed to be at the restaurant. He sat on one of the benches, briefcase at his feet. He closed his eyes and rested his elbows on his knees, trying to will away the images of death and destruction that flickered in his brain.

"Thought I might find you here," said a familiar voice. His eyes popped open. Jack was standing in front of him, coat hanging open, hands thrust in his pockets.

"That predictable am I?" said Ianto. Jack sat down on the bench beside him.

"Only to me.... I knew going to the tower would be ... tough. I would've gone with you, only I don't like to draw too much attention to us out in Cardiff." Jack held out his hand. Ianto took it, lacing his fingers down through Jack's. Jack squeezed his hand for a moment. "Let's walk for a while."

They walked along one of the paths that cut through the park. The light was fading toward dusk. Jack veered off the path, across the grass. He crooked a finger at Ianto. Ianto was slightly puzzled, but followed. Nearing a large tree, in the high grass, Jack grabbed his hand and pulled him toward it. He pressed Ianto back against the trunk and stood directly in front of him. His hands cupped Ianto's face and he kissed him, softly.

"Not to weird you out too much," Jack began. "But this tree and I have a history."

"You and ... the tree?"

"I kissed someone else I loved beneath this tree.... A very long time ago."

"Somehow when you say long time ago, I'm kind of afraid to ask exactly how long."

"109, no, 110 years ago, ... 1898....."

"Dare I ask a name?"

"...Rachel....." said Jack. Ianto opened his mouth to ask another question, but Jack pressed a finger to his lips. "I know. You want to know why I'm telling you this.....I .. I want you to know how precious our time is together. 110 years from now.... I might be here again... remembering you. But you won't be..... I wish I could grow old with you. But...it's unlikely....." A tear slid down his cheek. Ianto brushed it away with his thumb.

"Jack... I understand. Really, or at least as much as a mere mortal can," said Ianto. He shrugged his briefcase off his shoulder and set it on the ground. He slid his hands around Jack's body, feeling the warmth of his body inside the wool of the greatcoat. He tugged just a little, to pull Jack against him. Jack's thighs pressed against his own. Hips. Chest. Keys, coins, mobile, leatherman, all those things men carried in their pockets, pressing into each other. And the beginnings of interest. In the growing chill of the evening air, the heat between them was both comfortable and arousing. Jack kissed him again. This time it wasn't soft. It was hunger. His mouth was wet heat, tasting as only Jack did. Lips sucking on his own, tongue, a welcome invader.

"Not here..... too open.... Too public..." whispered Ianto into Jack's mouth. Jack pulled his head back just far enough to look at Ianto. And he grinned.

"Exhibitionist though I am, I didn't really intend to do you against a tree in the middle of Hyde Park in the daylight," he snickered.

"Could've fooled me."

"Not that you seemed to objecting,... much."

"Seems to me the original plan involved dinner."

"Oh?.... So you'd prefer to be wined and dined before we get on to more serious pursuits?" Jack teased.

"The Standard Indian does take-away...."

"mmmm, now that sounds like a plan. ...So, grab up your briefcase and we'll get some take-away on the way back to the hotel."



They did actually eat before they got distracted. And it was Ianto doing the distracting. Jack was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed replying to some email on his Blackberry. Ianto had hung his jacket on a hanger along with his tie, shirt sleeves rolled up, shoes kicked under the edge of the bed. Looking at Jack's back, he jammed his toes under Jack's bum and wiggled them.


"You're making me misspell Tosh's name...." said Jack slowly.

"Oh? And what did she e-mail you about?"

"Actually it was from Gwen. Update on the haunted house case. There's been another sighting." Ianto scooted forward, spreading his legs around the back of Jack's hips, running his fingers down Jack's spine.

"And what does she propose to do about it?" said Ianto innocently as he slid his arms around Jack's waist from behind. One hand fingered the fabric of the fly of Jack's trousers.

"She wondered if...." Jack's voice hitched, " if she and Owen should..." And he stopped again as Ianto's hand stroked down his groin. "oh god, you are just not gonna let me finish this are you?"

"Pray, continue," said Ianto. And he sat immobile for several seconds as Jack attempted to finish his e-mail reply. Then he pressed his open mouth to the side of Jack's neck and closed his teeth on the skin, licking at the flesh beneath his lips. Jack jerked and the stylus went flying out of his hand.

"Guess you'll have to finish later," said Ianto, plucking the PDA from Jack's fingers and dropping it gently to the floor. The fingers on his other hand were toying with the hardening bulge beneath Jack's fly. He was rewarded by increasingly ragged breaths from Jack.

"Trying to torture me?" Jack panted.

"Oh, maybe."
Jack placed one of Ianto's hands on his belt buckle. "Then get on with it."

"In due time..." Ianto's fingers tightened just a little through the fabric and Jack groaned.

"Do I get to rip your clothes off and pound you into the mattress?" Jack breathed.

"Maybe later. I'm busy right now." He pulled the buckle of Jack's belt loose and eased the zip down. His palm stroked down across the hard length still covered by the fabric of Jack's underwear. Jack was squirming, back arching then curling forward as he tried to grind himself against Ianto's hand. Ianto dragged his fingertips back up, the barest of pressure against the cloth and what lay beneath. Up and back down, after a few minutes he could feel the slight wetness soaking the fabric across the tip. He slid his hand inside the waist band. Slick, slippery moisture coated the skin along the slit. He traced a finger across it and Jack thrust against his fingers. Judging from the sheer muscle tension of Jack's back where he rested against Ianto's chest, head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, he was close. Ianto wrapped his fingers around the desperately hard length and stroked him firmly. In seconds, Jack moaned, and came in long hot spurts all over the lower edge of his shirt and Ianto's hand. As his body finally relaxed, his eyes opened and he smiled up from where Ianto had laid him back on the bed.

"Wondered just long you were going to torture me...." he said. "Do I get a turn?"

"Was kind of hoping so."

"Since you seem to be into the not bothering to get naked thing tonight...." Jack tipped Ianto onto his back and immediately pressed his face against Ianto's crotch, teeth closing gently on the erection beneath the fabric. He didn't bother with belt or fly for several minutes. He sucked and licked and nibbled until the cloth was saturated, both from within and without, while Ianto absolutely writhed. Finally he got around to actually undoing Ianto's belt and eased the zip down. He hooked his fingers into the band of Ianto's undies and pulled them down. One long expert stroke of his tongue was all it took to bring Ianto.

Both equally sticky, clothes were tossed to the floor and they lay with naked bodies entwined.

"Maybe we should come to London more often," suggested Jack. Ianto made a face. "Or not. We don't get much down time in Cardiff."
Ianto rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling, arms crossed.

"I don't like being in London. But...." he said.

"But what?"

"At least I have a few memories now, of..... "

"Keep going"

"Not of Lisa and the battle at Canary Wharf. And not of people dying. And not of cybermen and daleks. ...Maybe I can think of London, and think of you and me in Hyde Park. And you and me, here. And walking down the street going for take-away. Pleasant memories. Ones that don't hurt." Jack laid a hand on his arm and he turned his head to look at his lover. Eyes so very blue, a solemn expression on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"For what ?" asked Ianto.

"Memories that hurt. Sometimes I get too wrapped up in my own. Sometimes I try too hard to live in the now. And I don't know if that's a symptom of a life measured in centuries or just me....Tomorrow we'll go home."

"Let's go to the Eye. I've never been. I think they're open fairly late."

"Huh?"

"Have you ever been on the London Eye?"

"No."

"Then let's go. We might be able to make the last go-round of the evening. Something neither you nor I have ever done. Together."




Ianto had actually meant to just go be touristy and get in the queue, but his eyes widened when Jack cheerfully shelled out 300 quid for a private capsule at the entrance fee desk. It was full dark and the city lights lit bridges and streets and numerous buildings. Ianto stood leaning on the rail of the capsule, looking out at the city. His fingers were laced through Jack's, who stood slightly behind him, chin resting on Ianto's shoulder.

"300 was a bit much for a half hour jaunt," commented Ianto.

"Yeah, well. You wanted a memory. And I wanted it to be ours, no sharing with anyone else." He drew Ianto back away from the window edge toward the bench in the center. He pushed Ianto down to sit on the end of the bench and straddled the bench behind him, wrapping his arms around Ianto. He began kissing the side of his neck, starting just below his ear and trailing down toward the collar of his shirt.

"This was a good idea," Jack whispered. Ianto relaxed back into his arms, reveling in the feel of Jack's arms around him. They sat immobile for a number of minutes watching the nighttime over the city. Ianto half-turned and looked at Jack in the darkness.

"I have to go back over there tomorrow, to put my signature on reports," said Ianto, gesturing toward the dark silhouette of the Canary Wharf Tower where the head office was located.

"I know. Don't think about it. That's tomorrow. This is tonight. You and me." He cradled Ianto's face in his hands and kissed him. One of those all-consuming, passionate kisses that brought unbidden heat to his soul. Ianto pushed Jack back on the bench, stretching out on top of him, continuing the kiss.

"We could....." suggested Jack.

"That's all you ever think about," replied Ianto. He stared down into his lover's face, feeling the rise and fall of breath beneath him. Jack gave him a lecherous grin.

"Your fault. You are so absolutely delicious. And note, you're the one on top of me."

"We'll be back down in 20 minutes....Even if I thought I could stand the thought of someplace this public..... well, I..." Ianto slid off and sat up.

"Just teasing. You're so easy to wind up." Jack reached out and brushed his fingers along Ianto's face. The younger man leaned into the caress. The rest of the ride was spent in a companionable silence, arms around each other.



They walked back from the tube station to the hotel, holding hands. Jack was surprised. Ianto was generally overly careful about public affection. Maybe it was the fact they would be unlikely to recognized in the city. Maybe it was the stress of being there. Maybe it was being alone together, without the rest of the team. He had been equally surprised that Ianto had gone so far as to allow the kisses they shared in the park. The hotel room after.... In private, he could occasionally be very unrestrained.


Jack sprawled across the bed and fished the PDA out from under the edge of the duvet. He lay on his stomach and finished the reply to Gwen's email and sent it. It was past midnight and Ianto was sleeping. He rested his chin on his hands and watched Ianto in the semi-darkness of the room. Asleep, he looked even younger than 27. Too young to have endured the pain he had. Jack occasionally marveled at the fact the man was even still sane. He had seen other men shattered by wars, lost loved ones or life's other catastrophe's. Here in this moment of calm, he had a desperate desire to pull Ianto into his arms and hold onto him with a crushing tightness. Memorizing his scent, the texture of his skin, trying to preserve a moment of peace in his soul. But. He didn't want to wake him. He settled for laying a careful hand on the other man's side and merely laying beside him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Lulled by the slight motion, he fell asleep.



Ianto's mobile rang just as he was getting out of the shower. It was Vengaza. He had a host of little questions regarding the report. Ianto sat on the bed, towel wrapped around his hips, answering them for nearly half an hour while Jack shaved and showered. Finishing with confirmation of an appointment for final signatures at 11:30, Ianto tossed the mobile on the bed and started to dress.
The two of them actually had time for a leisurely breakfast at a shop down the street before Ianto needed to catch the tube toward Canary Wharf.

"Gotta get the rental car out of the car park," said Jack. " Then I have an errand to run. Shouldn't take too terribly long. Do you want me to pick you up over at Canary Wharf?"

"No. I think you're right about letting them believe you're too busy to come to the city for anything short of an emergency. Um, ... meet me at Waterstone's on Gower street at say... 1:00? We'll grab a coffee before heading back."

"Ok." They parted company.



When Ianto arrived at the head office, Vengaza had left instructions with his executive assistant to bring him to one of the labs. This forced Ianto to walk through the office that Lisa had worked in and end up in a portion of the floor that had been rebuilt after the battle. A portion actively used by Cybermen for conversions. This thoroughly unnerved him. By the time he followed the asst to where Vengaza was discussing a technical project with one of the scientists, his stomach was tied in knots and his mind was so very not on the task at hand.

"Ah, Mr Jones. I took the liberty of having Louise reprint the pages with the corrections and insert them in the appropriate places," said Vengaza. "Have a seat. You can check them before you sign." Ianto's hands were sweating so bad, his first attempt to grab the chair resulted in his fingers sliding off. He rubbed his hand on his slacks and yanked the chair out from under the desk.

"Something wrong?" asked Vengaza.

"No sir," Ianto lied.

"You look a bit out of sorts."

"I'm fine." He carefully began flipping through the corrected pages, concentrating more on his trembling fingers than on what he was reading. The pages could have been Vogon poetry and he probably wouldn't have noticed. He signed and dated all 3 copies.

"3 copies. All with appropriate signatures," he said stacking them on the desk top. "Until next year, sir." He inclined his head toward Vengaza and did not offer his hand. Vengaza gave him a weird look.

"Until next year, Mr Jones." The assistant led him back through the maze of labs, stopping momentarily to drop off some paperwork to one of the computer people. In Lisa's office. It was all he could do not to hyperventilate. When they finally made it back to the elevator, Ianto instead bolted into the stairwell. He jogged down 15 flights before slowing and sitting down on one of the steps. He wrapped his arms around his knees and pressed his forehead against them, shaking. He sat almost perfectly still for a number of minutes, trying to pull himself together. Then he walked the rest of the way down.

Waterstone's was quiet. Carpeted floors, walls of books, a few university students discussing the price of a textbook in a corner. Jack glanced at his watch. 1:10. He was a few minutes late. He walked down the stairs toward the basement café. It was not quite deserted. He saw Ianto sitting in a corner. Tie off, sleeves rolled up, jacket carelessly flung on the table along with the briefcase. His fingers traced the rim of the coffee cup and he stared blankly at the table top. Not a good sign.

Jack crossed the room and sat down in the chair beside him. Ianto looked up, startled. Jack laid his hand on Ianto's shoulder. He could feel the trembling of the other man's body.

"You look like shit," he said softly. "Tell me what happened." Ianto merely shook his head in silence. "Come on then, let's get you out of here." He picked up Ianto's jacket and briefcase and steered him gently up the stairs and out of the bookstore.

Jack drove. Ianto slouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes closed, but the sheer tension displayed in his body belied any indication of relaxation. After an hour's driving, Jack pulled over and shut off the car.

"No one's watching. It's just you and me. If you need to have a melt down, that's fine by me," he said.

"That makes me sound like a cranky 2 yr old," Ianto replied.

"Let's see. You're 27 and I'm 148. So in comparison...."

"Makes you sound like a pedophile."

"Eewww ! Don't think so! Besides, you definitely qualify as a consenting adult."

"Adults do not have melt downs."

"Yeah they do. It just usually gets called hysterics or shock. Come on, let's get out and take a walk."
Ianto let out a long breath and got out. Jack locked the car behind them. They were on a B road, bordered by fields. A low stone wall fenced one side. Jack stepped over it and stared into the distance for a moment. Sheep could be seen 100 meters or so away. He started walking, more or less parallel to the road, in the grass. Ianto followed. They walked for 10 minutes or more in silence. Jack stopped when they reached an intersecting fence. He leaned his back against it and faced Ianto.

"Talk."

"I don't really...." Ianto began.

"I don't care. Tell me what happened," Jack cut him off. Ianto leaned his elbows on the wooden fence. Ianto told him haltingly, about passing through Lisa's office and being in the reconstructed part and having to pass back through. In the beginning his voice was absolutely dead, but as he continued, the words sort of tumbled out. And then came the tears. Jack wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly as he sobbed against his shoulder. As the emotional storm faded, Ianto clung limply to him, breath hitching as he tried to calm himself. Jack still held him, rubbing his back.

"Getting this over with now is better. When we get back to the Hub, and they ask you how it went. You'll be able to say something sane and not fall to pieces. Yes ?" said Jack. Ianto nodded.

They walked back to the car. As they started to get in, Ianto asked, " So what did you have to do this morning while I was reliving hell at Canary Wharf ?" Jack looked at him across the roof of the car. And Ianto thought he had never seen such intense pain in his lover's eyes. Jack glanced down before he replied.

"I went to put flowers on Rachel's grave.... I try to do it at least once a year. She's buried out toward Kew." He swallowed hard and blinked away tears before climbing into the car.

***