Title: Homecoming
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 1.13, of course.
Summary: Jack’s return after “End of Days”.
Dis: Not mine. Lied.It’s three days in Torchwood time before Jack walks in the door and just stands there, hands in his pockets, eyes on Ianto as he tries to tidy up the paperwork on Tosh’s desk.
“Hey,” Jack says, soft and careful.
Ianto, hands frozen on the corners he was neatening, just stares for a minute. “Everyone’s gone for the night, sir,” he finally says, and could kick himself for such a bland response. Because Jack was gone, and now he’s here, and he’s leaning towards Ianto from halfway across the room. “How was your…” he debates on the wording, “trip?”
“I got a lot of questions answered. I got my head cleared.” Jack takes his hands from his pockets and walks towards Ianto in measured steps. “How were things here?”
“Quiet,” Ianto takes a breath when Jack stops just inches in front of him. “No excitement, no emergencies. Tosh has been—God, I just don’t care.”
Jack blinks, cocks his head, and grins a little. “What?”
“I don’t care. I just don’t give a damned what Tosh has been doing or how Owen has been moping or how Gwen has looked lost and confused and almost brave for the past three days. I don’t care one damned bit. Where the bloody hell *were* you?” And the last sentence is said with a bit more force than he’s intended, but Ianto doesn’t take it back, doesn’t apologize. He stands right where he is, smelling Jack, seeing Jack, but still too afraid to touch Jack.
“I’m sorry, Ianto.” Jack holds his hands out, palms up, in a gesture of apology. “I’ve been looking for answers since I got here, since I fell through, and that was my chance to get them. There are things about me-“
“You can’t die. We know that.”
Jack smiles, touches Ianto’s hand carefully with one finger. “There’s more than that particular weirdness. There are parts of my past I don’t know, or I didn’t until…” Jack trials off, and looks around. “How long have I been gone?”
“Three days,” Ianto’s brow furrows. “You don’t remember?”
“No, it’s not that. Time’s a little…off…where I was. Three days, huh?”
“Three days,” Ianto says and tries not to sound like he’d spent it trying to hold together with the very last half-ounce of hope he had. “We were worried.” Ianto takes a breath. “I was worried.”
“I know.” Jack’s voice is soft and careful again. He wraps his fingers around Ianto’s left hand and gives a small tug. “I had to go. I needed answers. Next time, I can probably take you lot with me.”
Ianto clutches Jack’s hand a little tighter than necessary. “Where were you?”
“Everywhere. Nowhere. I saw the end of a world and the start of another and the place where I came from. There’s a place for fairies out there,” Jack smirks, “of every type.”
Ianto finally smiles for the first time since Jack’s walked into the Hub, but his question is serious. “Are you staying?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll explain?”
“Yes.”
Ianto kisses him, tangles a hand in his hair, and pins him against the wall. When he pulls away, Jack is smiling, the leer just starting to come in around the edges.
“Well, hello, Ianto.”
“Hello, Jack.” And Ianto kisses him again.
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