Title: The End of the Affair
By: Lupa
Pairing: past Jack/Ianto & Ianto/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU (not CoE compliant) Angst
Author's notes: The Title is with acknowledgements to Graham Greene
Summary: Many years have passed, but Ianto still struggles to come to terms with the end of his relationship with Jack.

***

Chapter 1

"That's the baby.  I'll get her.  You get some extra sleep."

"Oh, thanks darling.  You sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry.  Got to get up soon anyway, I have to be in the office early.  Got a meeting."

"Mmm, okay.  Oh, and don't call her 'the baby'.  She has a name, you know!"

"Point taken."

Ianto swung his legs over the side of the bed and yawned.  Five o'bloody clock.  Why couldn't  babies sleep like, well, babies?

He padded off in the direction of Megan's room.  She was awake, crying in a slightly staccato fashion, more grumbling than real crying.  It was her way of registering annoyance at being left alone. 

She regarded Ianto with her dark blue eyes, still grumbling, to ensure that he got the message: she was to be the centre of attention now.

"Alright sweetheart?" said Ianto, smiling at her.  "Daddy's here now.  Let's sort out your problem, whatever it is."

Ianto changed Megan's nappy with practiced speed, then took her downstairs to the kitchen.

He went to the fridge and got out a bottle.  Holding Megan against his shoulder with one arm, he boiled up a kettle.  He put Megan into her high chair, out of harm's way, while he poured the water into a jug then dropped the bottle into the water.  He left it to warm up and started to make himself a coffee.

The coffee underway, he took the bottle out of the water, shook a few drops on his wrist, then picked up Megan, whose disapproval of being abandoned was becoming increasingly vocal. 

He offered her the teat, which she took in her mouth.  She looked at him while pushing the teat around with her tongue, as if considering: "Hmmm, is this what I wanted?  Not sure...No, now I come to think about it, definitely not!"

Her face suddenly contorted in rage, turned scarlet and she let out an anguished wail, wrenching her head away from the offending rubber nipple.

Ianto picked her up again and set off back to the bedroom.

"Sorry, she's not taking the bottle," he said, sitting down next to Nicole.

"Oh, Ianto, you've got to keep trying!  Otherwise I'll still be breast-feeding her when she's off to school."

"Sorry," said Ianto again, although it struck him that this was something of an exaggeration. "Shall I get you a coffee?"

"Decaf?"

"Of course!" said Ianto, wounded by her lack of faith.

After bringing Nicole her coffee, he showered and began to dress.  He sat down on the bed gingerly, so as not to unbalance Megan, who was propped up with pillows whilst Nicole drank her coffee.  Ianto picked up Megan and held her against his shoulder, a move which turned out to be unwise, as he felt her stomach tense briefly before she deposited a quantity of breast milk down the back of his shirt.

"Oh shit."

"Ianto, don't swear in front of her!"

"She's only three months old, Nicole.  I don't think we need worry about her picking up bad language yet."

"But what about James?"

"James isn't here."

"Yes, but if he had been, you'd still have sworn.  You just have to get out of these bad habits."

"Sorry," said Ianto, for the third time, throwing his shirt into the laundry basket.  "Speaking of James, shall I go and get him up?"

"No, he'll be OK for a little while.  Why don't you get me a flannel, I'll clean up your back."

Ianto went into the bathroom and came out again with a damp flannel.  He handed it to Nicole and sat down on the bed next to her.

She gently wiped his back.  His skin was so youthful still.  He was almost twenty years older than her, but no-one ever believed that the age gap was that great.  She noticed again those slight marks on his shoulders, some very minor scarring, caused, she supposed, by an encounter Ianto must have had when he was still out in the field.  She had asked him once what had happened to cause them, but he had just done that thing he sometimes did, where he seemed to retreat into himself, and had not answered her.

"So who's your meeting with?"

"Jack Harkness."

"What, your old boss?"

"Hmm."

"He must be getting on a bit now, mustn't he?"

"He wears it well."

"Why don't you invite him round for dinner if he's staying in London?"

"I'm not sure where he's staying.  He's not a very 'round for dinner' sort of person."

Nicole was curious about Ianto's former colleagues.  She'd never met any of them and he never talked about Torchwood 3 more than he could help.  She had been Ianto's PA when he had come down to head up the revived Torchwood 1 in London five years ago, so it wasn't as if he had to keep it all a secret from her.  She had asked him before they started dating what his job had been at Torchwood 3. 

"I was the tea boy." he said, which made her laugh.

She had never really broken through Ianto's reserve.  He knew everything about her.  But she knew only a part of him and the rest was withheld from her.  She had believed at first that eventually he would trust her enough to let her in, but now she knew that there would always be a part of him that would remain encrypted and unknowable. 

Ianto finished dressing.

"At least she didn't get your suit," Nicole said.

"Then you would have heard some real swearing." 

Chapter 2:

Ianto got into the car.  He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.  He remained in that position for a few seconds before taking a deep breath, turning the keys in the ignition and heading off for the centre of London.

Jack and Ianto.  For ten years it had been the hottest romance in town.  So it was a pity that the relationship had lasted twelve.

At 35 Ianto had still been (he knew it - why be falsely modest?) beautiful.  He looked after himself and anyone who didn't know different could easily have believed he was only in his mid-twenties.  But at his back he could always hear time's winged chariot and Jack, for whom the vast deserts of eternity held no terrors, was getting restless.

So far as Jack's fidelity, or lack of it, was concerned, Ianto had decided from the first that a "don't ask, don't tell" policy was wisest.  This policy had been a lot easier to live with though when there had been no reason to believe that there was anything to tell.  As he slipped into the wrong half of his fortieth decade Ianto realised that he could no longer rely on being able to outclass the competition so effortlessly. 

There were times when Jack would climb into bed and Ianto could tell he had been with someone else.  He could smell it on him.  He usually thought he could tell whether it had been a man or a woman.

Don't ask.

Initially Ianto chose to treat it as a kind of compliment.  Jack could have pretty much whoever he set his sights on, but he came back every time to Ianto.  The others were mere distractions, proving the power of Ianto's continued hold over the older man.  He would not let it break his heart.

Then the straying became more frequent.  Ianto realised that his place in Jack's life was becoming steadily diluted by the stream of casual lovers.  And these were not all one-night stands.

Ianto went into fight-back mode.  There was no trick in the compendium of human congress that he was not prepared to suggest: threeways, fourways, fiveways and counting, water sports, scat.  Sometimes even Jack looked a little surprised, although perhaps after all necrophilia had been a suggestion too far.

In role play, Ianto demanded that Jack beat him harder, longer, goading him to continue against Jack's better judgment.  After one particularly heavy session, Ianto was left with some scarring to his shoulders, a further reminder that his body, unlike Jack's, was destined to decay.

In retrospect, he saw that the desperation could not have been attractive.

See! See! Which of your other lovers will do this for you?  He might as well have got it emblazoned on a t-shirt.

It didn't work anyway.  Ianto could no longer deceive himself: his role in Jack's sex life was diminishing and one day it would vanish altogether.  It wasn't realistic, perhaps it wasn't fair, to expect Jack to remain with him while he descended into an old age to which Jack himself was immune.

So Ianto gave up.  And that was when his heart did break and all the joy and hope and enthusiasm seeped out, never to be recaptured.

He and Jack still fucked to some purpose.  Ianto would come and Jack would come (not necessarily in that order) but they might as well have been wanking.  In fact, from Ianto's perspective, wanking would have been better.  In his fantasies he could relive the excitement of their first sexual encounters.

When the call came from London to say that Torchwood 1 was to be re-established, as a central office with emphasis on admin and technological support rather than field work, it wasn't hard for Ianto to make the decision to apply for the post of unit head.  Jack wrote him a stunning reference (although Ianto thought a reference from Jack might be a bit of a two-edged sword) and the job offer came through. 

On Ianto's last night in Cardiff they went out together to "celebrate".  It was a melancholy affair, Ianto trying to act out the role of someone who actually had something to celebrate and Jack trying to act out the role of someone who was not relieved to have been let off the hook.  They had a farewell fuck back at Ianto's flat.  The sex was rubbish, even worse than usual, because it was supposed to be "special".

The next morning Ianto put his bag in the car.  He had only packed a few clothes and toiletries.  He would let his flat and anything he couldn't leave in it was packed in long term storage.  He didn't want to take anything from his past with him to London.  Not a thing.

Jack came down to wave him off.  They kissed goodbye.  The kiss at least did not disappoint.  It was sweet and affectionate, shorn of lust.  Ianto would have liked to have frozen that moment and stayed in the embrace forever.  But it had to end and it was as well that he should be the one to end it.  He pulled away and without looking at Jack again he got in the car and drove off.

He drove until he could pull over, then he stopped the car, rested his head against the steering wheel and sobbed.

After a few minutes there was a knock on the window.

"Are you alright sir?"

Ianto looked up to see a police officer squatting down next to the car peering in, a worried expression on his face.

No, no, I'm not.  I've just left my lover after twelve years.  I hoped he'd ask me to stay.  I knew he wouldn't, but I hoped he would.  I'd have done anything for him.  I'd have died for him and considered it a privilege.  But in the end he just didn't love me enough to say "Don't go."

What Ianto actually said was:

"I'll be alright in a couple of minutes, thank you officer.  I've been under a bit of strain lately.    I just need a few moments and I'll be fine."

"Is there no-one you'd like me to call, sir?"

"There's no-one.  Thank you."

Chapter 3

Ianto arrived at the office before 8.30.  He wanted to make sure that he was already at his desk before Jack arrived.  Since leaving Cardiff he had had to meet Jack in person twice before to discuss business.  The last time had been shortly before James was born.  He found that it helped him to feel more in control of the situation if he was already in the office before Jack got anywhere near the building.  He had a horror of meeting Jack in the lift or the lobby and having to make small talk all the way up to the ninth floor.

He sat down and tried to concentrate on the report which was in his email inbox ("Location and Retention of Alien Artifacts: Budgetary and Staffing Implications") but he was nervous and although he read the words, he might as well have read the phone book for all the sense he got out of them.

In the end it was actually a relief when Sara rang through to say: "Captain Jack Harkness to see you, Mr Jones."

"Ianto!  Looking good!  How are you?"

"Jack."

The two men embraced briefly.

"Well, got any photos of the latest Jones family member?"

"Yes, of course."

Ianto pulled out his phone and showed Jack a picture of Megan, smiling gummily.  Then, because he knew Jack would ask, he showed him some recent pictures of James.

"Wow, those fantastic kids!  But then they did really luck out on their gene pool."

"Kind of you to say so."

"So, have you got your team ready to meet me?"

"They've been told to be in the boardroom at ten.  So, can we be clear on this? The two year secondment - you know that's coming out of our budget?"

"I think I read that somewhere."

"But if they transfer at the end of the secondment, they'll have to go onto your budget."

"Yup, well that makes sense."

"OK, well as long as we're agreed on that.  Shall we go down there?  It's almost ten now."

"Sure.  You lead the way."

****************

"Hello everyone.  I'd like to introduce to you, for those of you who haven't already met him, Captain Jack Harkness, head of Torchwood 3, based in Cardiff.

"Jack's here today to offer an opportunity for two operatives from Torchwood 1 to transfer on secondment for two years to Torchwood 3.  This is a great opportunity for any of you who are interested in pursuing your career in a more field-work based arena than we are able to offer you in London.

"Applications will be on a paper sift exercise and the two successful applicants will be transferred to Cardiff immediately.  While on secondment, you'll retain your London rates of pay, but there will be no re-location expenses available.  Sorry, but that's under the new expenses rules.

"At the end of the two year period, there'll be a possibility of a permanent transfer to Torchwood 3.  If you do decide to apply for transfer, then I'm afraid that you'll come off the London pay scale, but re-location expenses will be available at that point.

"Finally, although some of you will know this already, I worked for Jack before I returned to Torchwood 1 five years ago and let me say that a better, more supportive or more loyal boss you will not find anywhere - I except myself, of course."

Pause for sycophantic laughter.

"So, now I'll hand over to Jack to tell you about Torchwood 3 and what you can expect if you join him there.

"Jack, you won't need me to stay.  I'm sure you'll find the team is very enthusiastic and that you'll have lot of interest from them."

************************

Back in his office, Ianto retreated into the facts and figures of the report.  Focus, focus.  He started to compile a written response, making some rough notes on the recommendations it contained.

"OK Ianto!  Torchwood 3 hard sell done!"

Jack strode into the office unannounced. 

"How did it go? Any interest?"

"Oh, sure, after all, who could resist?" Jack indicated to himself as being the irresistible object in question. 

"But they are a good team, Ianto," he continued, seriously.  "The credit for that's got to be down to you.  I think Louise Ryan and Paul Singh will definitely being applying."

"Well, they're both excellent team members and it's probably time they moved on and got a bit more hands on experience."

"Oh yes, I think I can promise them some hands on experience," said Jack, grinning widely again.

Ianto hoped that his face was not betraying what he felt, but he supposed he had walked into that one.

"So anyway," Jack continued, "how about lunch?"

"I wish I could, but I've got a deadline on responding to this report and I promised Nicole I wouldn't be late home."

"Hey, understood.  When are you going to invite me round for dinner so I can meet her and those two gorgeous kids?"

"Things have been a bit chaotic since Megan arrived.  Maybe you could give me a bit more notice next  time you're coming up?"

Maybe I can book annual leave.

"OK.  Well, since you're not going to take me up on my offer of lunch (and I was going to pay) I guess I'll start heading back to Cardiff."

"Well, goodbye then Jack.  I don't suppose I need to wish you a safe journey."

"Nope, but you can if you want to.  It's cute when you worry about me.   Let's not leave it so long before we catch up again.  Maybe you could come to Cardiff?"

"Mm.  Bye Jack."

They embraced briefly for the second time that day and Jack strode out of the office, leaving it diminished and drained of colour, in Ianto's eyes, at least.

Ianto closed the door behind Jack, leant back against it and exhaled shakily.

************************

We're in your bedroom in the hub.  I'm lying on my back with my legs wrapped round your hips.  Our bodies are slick with sweat, because we've already worked each other hard over the last hour.  You are driving yourself into me I cry out with pleasure at each movement.  I rise up to push myself against you, wanting you as deep inside me as possible.

You put your hand around my erection and draw it against your body, so that I can feel the friction of your body against it.  You move your thumb to the end of my cock and gently tease the nerve-rich tip.  My excitement crests and breaks.  My come slips through your fingers and falls back down on my belly, warm and heavy like summer rain.

Our eyes lock.  In the after-glow of my climax, I can enjoy your pleasure more, undistracted by my own needs.  You thrust faster now and I watch you until I see that look - I can't describe it - flicker across your face and a split second later you've come.

Then you smile down at me and I start to laugh softly. Then we are both laughing, because the evening has just we begun and we have all night.

Chapter 4

It was already starting to get dark by the time Ianto pulled into the drive.  He let himself in and found Nicole asleep on the sofa in front of the fire. He gazed down at her, asking himself, as he did almost every day, whether he had done the right thing in allowing her into his life.

Ianto was not vain, so when he had realised that Nicole had fallen in love with him it had not been with any sense of triumph, it was simply a fact which he could not deny.  She was young and beautiful and he knew that most men would have envied him.  But apart from being her boss, which in itself was a good reason to avoid any romantic entanglement, he had so little to give her in return. 

However, when she shyly asked him on a date he found he could not refuse.  He could not see that look of hope and mingled hopelessness on someone else's face without trying to offer comfort.   

Ianto did not understand why she, or anyone, would love him.  He was, he knew, just the remnants of what he had been before his affair with Jack.  He would never feel again that passionate, intense love which had ignited his body and soul at the sight, the touch, even the thought of Jack.  But he cared for Nicole deeply and as the relationship became more serious, he promised himself that he would never leave her, he would never betray her and, so far as it was in his power to avoid it, he would never hurt her.

Ianto always kept his promises, including those to himself.

As if she sensed him watching her, Nicole woke. She sat up and rubbed her face.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six thirty.  Are they both asleep already?”

“Yeah, won't last.”

She regarded him for a moment then said "Sorry."

"What for?" he asked.

"This morning.  I was a bit narky."

"Were you?  I didn't notice."

"How was your meeting with your old boss?"

"OK.  He was really there to meet the rest of the team more than me."

Suddenly, the baby monitor next to the sofa sprang to life, lights triggered by a thin wail from upstairs.

“I'll get her,” said Ianto.  “You look done in.”

“Thanks,” she yawned, falling back against the sofa.

Ianto went upstairs and picked up Megan.  He held her tenderly against him and she snuffled and yawned, then snuggled against him, wanting, for the moment, only the comfort of being held. 

Still holding her, he walked quietly into James' room.  James lay in the oblivion of childhood sleep.

He remembered the moment that James, squalling indignantly, had first been put in his arms.  Looking into James' face, Ianto had experienced for the first time a new, a different sort of love, not better nor worse than passionate sexual love, just other.  Then with Megan, the same summoning of emotion in his heart which he had once thought no longer capable of any strong feelings.

His children.  His future. They would wax and he would wane: that was as it should be.  It was comforting to know that they would outlive him.  If he had doubted that, his love for them would have been intolerably burdensome, a source of anguish rather than pleasure.

Outside the night darkened, while Ianto held his daughter, gazed at his son and for the first time in over five years, thought about Jack without bitterness.