Title: Life is All Part II: Archival Revival
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Alonso, Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Martha/Mickey, budding Alonso/Lois, Jack/John/Alonso, Jack/John, past Jack/Ianto, past Jack/John/Ianto, past Jack/John, past Jack/Alonso…you get the idea.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jack possibly revives Ianto. (Okay, he does. I’m no M. Night Shyamalan.)
Warnings: none
A/N: Okay, my proudest part of this is the Part II title. *points up* Look at it! *giggle* It’s brilliant!! Anyway, sorry about how late/short this is. Next week will be…*cough* well, when you read the end of this, you’ll see why things are about to get more awesome/fun.

Previous story in series - Life is All, Part I: Allons-y Alonso

Jack twirled the vial over his fingers. Over, then under. Over, then under. With each flick the vial would catch the overhead lights, glinting sharply before dulling again in its rotation. To think that within this little, insignificant vial lay the thing that could have saved Ianto. That could have saved…everything. Could have changed everything, that was for damn sure.

“We’re, uh…” Jack turned in his chair, facing Alonso. He stood in the doorway to the small cockpit, fingers pulling at hands nervously. “I mean, how long until we get back to Regis?”

Jack tucked the vial into his breast pocket. He wasn’t planning on letting the cursed little thing out of his sight; not until Ianto was back with him. “Two more hours.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.” Alonso still stood there, hesitance obvious. After his outburst earlier, Alonso had retreated to his room to cool off. Now he was back to being obsequious and polite. It was too bad, really: Jack liked sexy, pissed off Alonso. “Do…” he stopped, paused. Jack waited patiently. Now that he had a plan, now that he had some hope, he felt like he had all the time in the world. No more need to rush or worry; Ianto would come back to him – he would bring Ianto back – and everything would be all right again. Ianto would fix everything, like he always did. “What’s the plan when we get to Regis?”

Now it was Jack’s turn to hesitate. “Well…” his eyes slid down to the controls. He had an hour and a half before he had to adjust the engine burn. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. I’m hungry.” He wasn’t, really. He just didn’t need Alonso hovering awkwardly above him while they had this conversation.

They slid into two seats in the cramped kitchen. Their knees bumped under the table, it was so small. As Alonso waited, worry written clearly across his face, Jack took a breath. “Here’s the thing. It’s up to you what you want to do next. I’m gonna try and get in contact with someone from the Time Agency, see if I can’t get my Vortex Manipulator fixed. If not, I’ll just wander around Regis until I luck upon some technical genius who can.” A quick look passed across Alonso’s face. “It’ll work; trust me. Besides, I’ve got time to wait.”

Probably not the best thing to say. Alonso’s expression hardened. “Yeah. Could just wait around until - what was it again, 49^th century? - for the agency to form, get it fixed then. Sure you’ll still be pining away for Ianto after all those years.”

Rage flooded Jack’s system. But he stayed still, sitting in his chair, until it subsided. Alonso has every right to be angry, the Welsh-accented voice rebuked him. You’ve treated him like shit: letting my ghost haunt everything you do with him. A few calming breaths, and Jack was able to continue. “Okay, I deserved that, I know. Just listen.” A muscle in Alonso’s jaw jumped, but he stayed silent. “Once I get my Manipulator fixed, I’m gonna jump back to London, Earth, 1941. I’ve got a ship there filled with nanogenes. I just need to avoid myself,” actually was probably going to be a challenge, Jack mused, due to the sheer number of him’s running around in that era, “for long enough to get a jar-full. Then I’m going back to Earth, 2009, get Ianto, give him the antivirus and the nanogenes.”

“Hang on. If you’ve got access to nanogenes, after a fashion, why’d you need the antivirus?”

“Figured the Iucunds manufactured their viruses to counteract the affects of nanogenes. I’ve seen it before in biological weapons: when both sides have nanogenes, your weapons gotta stay a step ahead.” There was a moment of silence, when Jack stared at the floor and Alonso shifted uncomfortably next to him.

“Sorry.” Jack glanced up at Alonso, who was studiously looking away even as he apologized. “About what I said, earlier. Just caught me by surprise, and with all the Ianto talk…”

“It’s alright.” Jack brought his hand up to rest on Alonso’s thigh. “I haven’t been my normal charming self, these past few months.”

He could tell by the set of Alonso’s shoulders that he was debating whether or not to let Jack’s hand stay where it was. Finally he turned to Jack, making eye contact. “Do you think it’s some sort of survivor’s guilt, with you? You got out of the building alive, he didn’t?”

A sharp laugh ripped its way out of Jack’s throat. “Survivor’s guilt?” He paused. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Then Alonso was kissing him, tongue tentatively flicking out to taste his lips. After a moment of shock, Jack opened his mouth, allowing Alonso to deepen the kiss. Alonso abruptly broke the kiss. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I guess now, with Ianto coming back…”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Well…no need to break things off yet. If you wanted to still…” he gestured between the two of them.

“I…I don’t think it’s right.”

Jack blinked. He blinked again. “Oh, okay. I mean, Ianto wouldn’t really mind…” You right bastard, of course I would. I mean, could you go any younger? Look at him: like he still needs nappies. And don’t pull the ‘he’s the same age as you’ garbage: after surviving Canary Wharf and you I might as well be in my nineties. Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. “Okay, well, he might. But I don’t plan on staying celibate for however long this is going to take, and I like you.”

Alonso didn’t seem to know what to do with this information. He stood up and backed away. “Just…just tell me when we get to Regis. I’ll decide about - if I’m going to stick around - then.”

Jack watched Alonso retreat to his bedroom. If the kid did end up sticking around, Jack knew he’d give in eventually. After all, who could resist the charm of Jack Harkness? Especially since Alonso had already experienced it for himself. For the time being, Jack would just watch the stars go by. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered back to the cockpit. Just another hour before he had to adjust the burn.

**

            They debarked on Regis in the evening. The light was just starting to dim in the sky, and a veil of pseudo-darkness was beginning to descend. Jack sold the star hopper to the first guy who gave him a price, then slapped his credit chip into Alonso’s hand. “Here. Not like I need the money.”

            “But…”

            Jack waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Now, you coming or not?” Jack’s attention was already trained on his wrist strap. He hadn’t sent out a signal yet, but he was already picking up some sort of chronon signature. What the hell?

            “I…I think…”

            “Why hello there, Jack. Who’s the new eye-candy?”

            Both men spun around at the sound of the new voice. Jack’s mouth dropped open, before it twisted up into a grin. Alonso was glancing between the two men rapidly.

            “Jack? Jack, who’s that?”

            Jack shook his head ruefully, then ran a hand through his hair. “Alonso,” he swept a hand out grandly. “Meet John Hart. Ex-Time Agent.”

            John strode over, thumbs tucked into his jeans, swagger in his step. “What, I don’t get to be called Captain anymore?”

           Jack crossed his arms over his chest. The last thing he needed right now was John poking his nose into his business. Then again, he did need a Time Agent to fix his Vortex Manipulator. And he did know that John was handy with that sort of thing: much more so than he was.

            First thing first: business. “What year are you?” Jack cocked an eyebrow and shifted slightly.

John smirked, but replied. After all, this sort of thing was important when dealing with time travelers. “Dunno. What are you wondering?”

It was always delicate, figuring out how much you could say and how much you couldn’t, without risking timelines. John looked pretty much the same as he had last time Jack had seen him, but that could mean anything. Two years earlier John would have looked relatively the same, and wouldn’t have met up with Jack at Torchwood, or known about his immortality yet. Two years later, and John could know all sorts of things Jack shouldn’t know – like if I can bring Ianto back. Jack had to be careful, with timelines and all. But a name shouldn’t hurt. “Have you met Ianto?”

John’s smirk widened to a full-on grin. “That cute little Welsh number? The eye-candy?”

A fire flared up within Jack, but he squelched it. This was all necessary to bring Ianto back, after all. He nodded curtly.

“Yeah, we’ve met.” The leer in John’s voice told Jack all he needed to know, but he still had to make sure.

“How many times?”

John shifted at the question. His eyes flickered over to Alonso, but he kept going. “Three times. Once with the diamond that wasn’t, once with your…um...” he hesitated.

“Grey.”

John let out a sigh. “Oh, thank Goddess you knew about that. Would have been awkward.”

“It’s still awkward.” Jack’s eyes were level as he stared down John. He squirmed a bit under Jack’s gaze, then scrambled to change the subject.

“Ah. Right. Well, and then the third time…” he winked at Alonso, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Jack noticed the uncomfortable little shift Alonso did, and the way his trousers seemed to grow a little tighter. Great. Another lover enticed by the sex appeal of one John Hart.

Jack sighed, waving a hand. “Yeah, okay. So we’re at matching timelines, then.”

“Good. Glad we got all that ‘business’ taken care of. Now we can get to the fun stuff.” Another grin and eyebrow wiggle in Alonso’s direction. “Where is his royal pompousness, anyway? And who’s this one? Not as handsome, though he does have the cute thing going, with the ears.” He gestured at Alonso’s ears, who had the good sense to look appalled and affronted.

Jack swallowed, eyes flickering over to Alonso. He took a breath. “He’s dead.”

“This one? Looks pretty alive to me…”

Jack really didn’t have time to deal with John’s shit right now. The gallivanting and carrying on was sexy a few centuries ago, but now was tired and irritating. He squared his shoulders. “Ianto’s dead.”

That gave John pause. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” The two men stared each other down for a moment. John’s eyes flickered slightly: he was genuinely concerned, Jack knew. John wasn’t a total heartless bastard – he just liked a good time, where he could find it. Well, okay, he was a heartless bastard: but still, he could care – sometimes.

“Well, I…” John started to move forward, extended a hand.

“Don’t try.” Jack moved back, avoiding the touch. To his relief, John pulled his hand away and shrugged, letting the issue drop. “Listen, I think I can get him back.”

John rolled his eyes. He started picking at his fingernails causally, though Jack recognized the gesture. It was what John did when he didn’t want to have to confront someone – a rare thing. “Jack, come on. I can’t help you steal him out of the past. Rules 23-108, you know that.”

This time it was Jack’s turn to take a step forward, invading John’s personal space. “First, when were you for rules? Second, I don’t need you to cross timelines. I’ve got a different way. All I need is for you to fix my vortex manipulator.”

“So, what, you can cross your own timeline? I’d rather live in a universe that still exists, thanks much!”

Jack sighed. John was never this tightly wound when they were Time Agents. He was always ready to do something that came close to obliterating existence: so long as they could get a good time out of it. Then again, John was probably wary of him: what he would do, what lengths he would be willing to go to in his grief. Jack gripped at John’s arm lightly. “No, listen, I’ve got it all figured out. I’ve got an antivirus with me,” he touched his chest, where the antivirus was nestled safely away in his pocket, “all I need are some nanogenes. I know where to get some, easy. I’ll have to avoid myself a little bit, but I shouldn’t run into myself.”

John hesitated, eyes flickering over to Alonso. “He told you about this plan of his?” The question was directed at Alonso.

“A…a bit.”

Jack waited as John weighed the information. He cocked his head over at Alonso. “Can I have him?”

Jack and Alonso replied simultaneously, Jack indignant, Alonso…less so:

“No!”

“Well, if you want…”

Jack and John turned as one to look at Alonso. He shrugged. “Well, he’s cute. And I still don’t like the idea of fucking you when we’re trying to bring your boyfriend back to life.”

John nodded vigorously at Jack. “He’s got a point. I think I should get him. And with him willing and all…”

Jack threw his hands up. “Fine. Do whatever you like. Can you just please fix my Vortex Manipulator?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t care. Didn’t care about those lusty looks John and Alonso were shooting at each other. The way John’s eyes were raking down Alonso’s chest, stomach, down to his… “Damn it, you two. Could we just…”

John’s head whipped back to look at Jack. “How’s about we get a room?”

“A room?” Jack spluttered. “Could we get your mind out of your cock for a second?”

“To fix your precious Vortex Manipulator, Goddess!” John threw his hands up. “I’ll need a little while to fix it, and I’d rather not do it in some little café off the main spaceport. That alright with you?”

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine, fine. We’ll get a place for you to work. Do you need any supplies?”

John held his hand out, waving Jack’s wrist to him. Jack obliged, grudgingly: taking off the wrist strap and handing it over. The back popped open, and John poked at it for a moment. “Looks like you’ve taken a sonic screwdriver to the damned thing; what’d you do to it?”

“The Doctor took a sonic screwdriver to it.”

“Ah.” John nodded, pursing his lips as he stared down at it. “Right. Well, I’ll just need a few hyperspanners and some screwdrivers…” he sighed. “No sonic tech yet, I suppose?” He handed back the wrist strap to Jack, who buckled it back on.

Jack shook his head. “Not ‘til century before yours.”

“Yeah, I know.” John pursed his lips, looking around the spaceport. Coming to a decision, he clapped his hands together. “Right, then. Jack, get me the supplies, and…” he waved in Alonso’s direction.

“Alonso,” the young man helpfully supplied.

“Right, Alonso here, will help me find a hotel room.”

Jack hesitated. It wasn’t like Alonso didn’t know what he was getting into – kid was practically drooling in anticipation – but he was still reluctant to leave John alone with him. He leaned forward into John, shoving a finger in his face. “Be good.”

“I’m always-” Jack gave him a look. “Alright. Fine.” John nodded at Alonso. “We’re just gonna have some good, clean fun. Right?”

Alonso nodded vigorously. His eagerness might have been comical, if Jack wasn’t worried for him. Jack squinted at John. “You’ll let me know where you’re staying?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get on with it.” With one last, long look at John, Jack nodded and set off toward the shops, John and Alonso starting off in the opposite direction. They were within hearing range just long enough for Jack to hear John say, “So, how many inches-” and then the sounds of the spaceport swallowed the rest of the conversation. Jack sighed. John was…John. But at least that was consistent, unchanging. Reliable, in the most unreliable way possible.

Now, he just had to find the tools John needed. Jack knew in theory how to fix his manipulator; he just wasn’t so good with the practice. Still, that knowledge should be enough for him to grab the proper tools, or close enough.

He haggled with the shopkeepers over the price of the hyperspanner: in part to keep in practice, in part to give John and Alonso time to finish up. Alonso had been making it extremely clear that he wasn’t interested in Jack anymore. Even Jack wasn’t that dense. Best to avoid walking in on any tempting situations, in that case.

Jack glanced down at his wrist strap. Good to his word, John had sent the address of the hotel he had managed to grab. Jack made his way through the narrow streets to the hotel. It was a dingy, seedy place, only about a ten minute walk from where they had started. John hadn’t wanted to waste any time, then.

Standing in front of the door to the room, Jack listened in. Some shifting, but whatever they had done was over with, if the quiet was anything to go by. And Jack knew from past experience it wouldn’t be quiet if something was going on: John was a screamer.

As he pushed the door open, a not-altogether unpleasant sight greeted Jack. Alonso was naked and sleeping on the small bed in the corner. Sweat glistened on his back, and bite marks peppered his shoulder blades and neck. From what Jack could see of his face, he looked sated, sleeping off his exertions. John was in the middle of the room, buttoning up his jeans leisurely, smug grin on his face. His shirt was still off, and Jack allowed himself a moment to admire John’s muscles flexing beneath his skin as he moved. Looking never hurt anyone, after all.

John’s hands stopped their motion upon noticing Jack entering the room. “Want to join me for round two?” His hands reversed their direction and started unbuttoning his jeans. “Well, technically round three.”

Jack waved a hand dismissively. “Just fix the manipulator, John.” He tossed the bag of tools at him, which John caught easily. Jack then ripped off his wrist strap and tossed it at him as well.

“Okay, okay. No need to get touchy just because…” John trailed off. His eyes flickered down for a moment, then rose back up to look at Jack. “You know, I am sorry to hear about that. He was a smart kid – hot, too.” He nodded at Jack. “Seemed like he was good for you.”

“Yeah.” Jack sighed, slumping down to sit on the ground. There was only one chair, and Jack figured John should probably have it, so he could sit at the desk and work on the manipulator under the lamplight. “Too good – that was the problem.”

John slipped into the chair, dumping the tools out onto the table. He rummaged through them, picking out the hyperspanner and getting to work. After a moment of tinkering, he muttered, “Yeah, well, you were always rubbish at self-sufficiency. It’s why you never learned how to fix one of these yourself.” Another moment of silence, during which John picked up a different tool.

“Yeah, well, never had to be.” Jack grinned. “Always managed to find someone to lend a helping hand.”

John shook his head, not looking up from the manipulator. His lips pursed into a rueful grin. “Sweet Goddess, you’re terrible.”

            “Yeah.” They sat in silence for another few minutes, letting the ambient noise fill the room. In the corner of the room, Alonso was snoring softly, bare leg dangling over the side of the bed, pert arse uncovered for all the world to see. The sounds of the nearby spaceport filtered in through the thin walls: people shouting, laughing, ships taking off and landing. It was funny: a lifetime ago, Jack would have called those the sounds of home. Now, home was a cup of coffee, a three-piece suit, warm blue eyes.

“Have fun with Alonso?”

            John hummed lewdly. “Responsive bloke.”

            “Yeah. Noticed that.”

            A pause, then, “Don’t know why you treated him like such shit.”

            Jack rubbed at his temples. Not what he needed right now. “John,” he growled.

            “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Shut up and fix the manipulator.’ Keep your shirt on.” His eyes slid sideways for a moment. “Or not. Wouldn’t mind if it came off…”

            Jack decided it was best not to comment. John could keep up this banter forever, and right now, Jack’s heart wasn’t into it. He just wanted the manipulator fixed, so he could move on to the next step for bringing Ianto back. Now, that was all that mattered: moving forward, getting closer to Ianto.

Above him, John continued to fiddle with the manipulator. Every few minutes he would grumble to himself, setting down one tool and picking up another; or, at times, gripping two tools and holding the manipulator steady with his forearms. Jack considered offering to help, but John seemed adept at handling the manipulator himself. The sight reminded Jack of their earlier conversation.

            “You know, I managed on my own for centuries. Who’re you to say I’m rubbish at self-sufficiency?”

            John didn’t even bother looking up from his task. “Yeah, you managed. You’re a social kind of guy, Jack. You can’t be happy without someone.”

            Jack hummed a little. Reminded him of another immortal he knew. Is that what immortality did? Made a person need companionship, all the time? Make him forget how to live on his own? Or had he and the Doctor just always been that way - “social kind of guys”, as John had put it?

            “How’d you even find me?” Jack asked, changing the subject. John shrugged one shoulder, still bent over the wrist strap.

            “When we first hooked up in training, I set up a temporal alarm coded with your DNA, just to see if I could.” He paused to grip a tool in his teeth while he poked around with another. A moment later and he was setting down the one and removing the other from his teeth to put to work again. “Got the notification once, a few days ago. But you were just here for a second, and I was otherwise occupied.” One look at John’s smug grin told Jack the nature of his “occupation”. “Then I got this second notification, figured something might be up, for you to be mucking around this planet repeatedly.”

            Jack considered this bit of information for a second. “So, anytime I set foot on Regis, no matter when it is, you’d get a notification?”

            John nodded. He glanced down, meeting Jack’s eyes. “What?”

            Jack smirked happily. “Sounds like somebody had a crush.”

            “Oh, get over yourself. I did not.” One glance between the two men, and it was obvious John was lying. “Well, the point of the exercise was to test out my new tech skills, which…” John snapped the manipulator shut with a flourish, tossing it down to Jack, “come in handy, time to time.”

            Jack pressed a few buttons on the manipulator: it lit up beautifully. His grin was bathed in the soft glow of a fully-functioning manipulator. “John…” Jack swallowed thickly. One step down. One step closer to bringing back Ianto. “Thank you.”

            John waved a hand dismissively, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah yeah, no trouble.” He sniffed, glancing over at a stirring Alonso. “Anyway, before you head off to whenever you’re going how about we get dinner and…” he quirked an eyebrow, “threesome?”

 

           “It’s just…” Alonso rolled onto his back on the small bed. John was lighting a cigarette next to him. He offered it to Alonso, but he declined. “It’s just, it’s like I’m suffering from the chronic condition of not being Ianto Jones.”

            John laughed, coughing out some smoke as he did so. “Well,” his voice was slightly strained from the coughed-up smoke, “At least you don’t suffer from the chronic condition of being John Hart. There’s something you carry with you even when you’re not around Jack.”

            Alonso glanced over at John. His eyebrows twitched upward as he took a long drag on the cigarette, cheeks hollowing out. Beneath the calm, cool gesture was a hint of sadness: a tinge to his eyes. Alonso sighed. “I guess.”

            The bed shifted next to him as John rearranged himself. He propped himself up onto one elbow, facing Alonso. As he spoke, he gestured with his left hand, cigarette glowing between the fingers. “Listen, Jack’s a great lay. I know that better than…” he raised his eyebrows, taking a drag, “well, used to be better than anybody. Guess it still is, with Ianto dead.” Again, that little moment of sadness flickered across his eyes. “Anyway, point is, Jack’s got a whole host of issues to deal with. And it’s nobody’s fault but his own. So you can’t go getting all worked up about him. Take the lay, try to give as good as you get, and leave - no regrets, no looking back.”

            He took one last, long drag on the cigarette, then turned it up and looked down at it. Satisfied that he had smoked it to the filter, he flicked it off to the side of the room. “And don’t get all caught up in the fact that he wants to screw you while thinking of Ianto. Man had it bad for the boy, but that doesn’t change who he is, or what his libido’s like. Ianto knew that.” John’s eyes twinkled. “Ianto could match Jack, too: kink for kink.”

            Alonso shrugged. He let a hand trace down John’s bicep, to his forearm, down to his waist and hip. “It’s honestly not that it doesn’t seem right – which it doesn’t, of course…” his hand squeezed at John’s arse. That man had a fantastic body, even though he looked old enough to be his father.* “But it’s more that he doesn’t…I’m not…”

            “You’re not his one and only.” John’s voice was mocking, and a cruel little sneer curled his lips. “Come on, kid. Did you really think you’d get anything like that from Jack?”

            Alonso shrugged, not wanting to look John in the eyes. “Well, him and Ianto…”

            “Exactly. Ianto.” John lifted a hand, poking Alonso in the chest. “You’re not Ianto. I’m not Ianto. And that’s all Jack wants.” He rolled his eyes, pursed his lips. “And Jack’s got as many lifetimes as he wants to mourn for him. So,” Abruptly, John’s hand snaked down and gripped at Alonso’s cock, stroking it. Alonso gasped, thrusting forward instinctively. “No point in pining for him. Seize the day, and all that.”

            Alonso groaned. He nodded, tightening his grip on John’s arse and pulling him closer, rutting against him. “Good advice…”

            Jack strapped his vortex manipulator back on. “Come on, John. Give it a rest. Didn’t you have enough fun with Alonso?”

            But John was already pulling open his jeans, walking forward to Jack. “You know you’ve got another six hours to wait for that thing to fully charge enough for a jump – eight if you want to bring your little pet along.” He nodded at Alonso, who was just now stirring in the corner. By now he had reached Jack, and was looking him up and down. “Why not make good use of the time?”

            Jack glanced down at the manipulator. John was right: it was going to take a few hours before he could make the jump back to 1941. And he had nothing better to do… “Fine. But it’s not going to be a threesome: Alonso doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

            John scoffed. “Well it’s no surprise, considering how you’ve been treating him. I’ve treated rent boys better than you treat him.”

            “You treat rent boys like shit.”

            John looked exasperated. “My point! And, anyway, we talked it out for a bit. He’s more…open…to the idea, now.”

            “Alonso can speak for himself,” a voice grumbled from the bed. Jack and John turned to see Alonso stretching, as he awoke from his post-coital slumber. He looked up at the two men blearily. “And Alonso wouldn’t mind. As long as,” he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He was still naked, and Jack took a moment to appreciate how completely debauched John had made him look. Love bites and sweat still peppered his body, and little bruises were forming on his hips – John was never the gentle type. Alonso yawned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “As long as I can stick with you, Jack. After all this, I kind of want to meet Ianto. If your plan works.”

            Jack nodded. It was his idea in the first place for Alonso to stick with him. Never knew when having an extra pair of hands might come in handy – and not just in the bedroom.

            Next to him, John clapped his hands together loudly. “Perfect. Roll over, Alonso.” He twirled his hand, gesturing at Alonso. “Captain fantastic over here won’t let me top,” he glared in Jack’s direction, “but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get to top someone.”

            Jack smirked at John. “It’s just because you’re such a woman, it goes against instinct to let you top.”

            A gasp diverted the two ex-Time Agents’ attentions from each other, over to the bed where Alonso lay. He was fingering himself, thrusting two fingers in and out rhythmically. “If you two,” he gasped again, eyes squeezing shut for a second, “are quite finished arguing,” with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he removed his hand from his arse and wiggled it tantalizingly, “then maybe you could get over here and fuck me?”

            Jack and John shared a look, before immediately divesting themselves of clothing and jumping onto the bed. John had a head start, being clad only in halfway unbuttoned jeans. Before Jack had even finished tugging off his boots, John’s head was buried in Alonso’s arse, hollowing cheeks indicative of what his tongue was doing. Jack groaned a little at the sight: John, for whatever reason, loved to give rimjobs. And his tongue was legendary.

            Beneath him, Alonso moaned and pressed back, one hand moving up to fist himself. Jack, now successfully undressed, climbed onto the bed with them. He settled himself in front of Alonso, batting his hand away and replacing it with his own. “You sure you want to come with me?”

            John grunted at the innuendo from his position. Jack opted for giving him a tap on the back of his head, to which John responded with a muffled “Give it to me harder, big boy.”

            “Jack,” Alonso managed between gasps, “I’m sure. Now if you could…”

            Jack tapped John again, but this time to get his attention. “Move back.”

            John glanced at the wall behind him, but moved back as far as he could. Jack, for his part, was busy maneuvering himself beneath Alonso, so that he was on his back, face beneath Alonso’s weeping erection. He flicked a tongue out, lapping at the precome beading on the head. Alonso gasped.

            “Oh, John, good…”

            Jack grumbled a bit, put out by the fact that John’s ministrations – which now appeared to include several fingers alongside his tongue, as far as Jack could see from his upside-down position – were garnering more attention than his own. He decided to pull out all the stops. After all, the Captain Jack Harkness Alonso had known so far was grieving. This Captain Jack was celebrating: he was going to get Ianto back.

            He reached a hand up, gripping at the base of Alonso’s arousal. Carefully he folded his lips over his teeth and slid them over the head, sucking forcefully. A moan floated down from above him, and Jack would have grinned if he wasn’t slipping more and more of Alonso into his mouth. He opened his throat, breathing carefully through his nose as he slid Alonso’s length down the back of it. The awkward angle meant he had to concentrate more than usual, but it was worth it to feel Alonso buck and writhe above him.

            “Ah, Jack…” Jack slid Alonso’s length out of his mouth, only to draw him deep back in, repeating the action until all Alonso could do was mumble his name like a mantra. It was with a final jerk of his hips and loud cry that he came, a stream of viscous fluid shooting down Jack’s throat.

            He pulled away, wiping his mouth. He managed, with just a trace of awkwardness, to climb out from beneath Alonso and turn himself around, so he was facing John.

            John did not look pleased. He was still aroused – painfully so – and was in position behind Alonso’s entrance, apparently just about to enter him. Alonso was still shuddering from his orgasm, which meant his muscles were clenching. Muscles which John had been working so hard to relax.

            He shot Jack the filthiest of looks, one hand still wrapped around the base of his arousal. His other reached out and stroked the small of Alonso’s back. It was almost a sweet gesture, if Jack didn’t know it was designed to open Alonso back up as quickly as possible. “You can be a real bastard sometimes, you know that, Jack?”

            Jack grinned. Riling John up was one of his favorite things to do. Jack grabbed his own unsatisfied arousal and waved it lewdly in John’s direction. “Hey, not like I’ve gotten off yet eith-oh!”

            Alonso, apparently having come back to himself during the exchange, wrapped his lips around Jack and took him down into his throat, repeating the excellent technique Jack remembered from the cockpit. He let his head fall back against the wall, eyes sliding closed as he focused on Alonso’s mouth around him. A hand ghosted down and tangled itself in Alonso’s hair, stuttering just a little bit when the finger pads met short, straight hair, rather than the thick waves they were used to. Jack pushed the thought out of his mind – soon enough.

            Across from him, John was concentrating, sliding a finger back inside Alonso. “You good to go?”

            Alonso canted his hips backward in invitation, mouth otherwise occupied with Jack. Jack watched John as he pushed inside John, grunting in pleasure. John really was sinfully hot, even after all these years. Those cheekbones, those lips...which were now smirking at him, catching his stare. “Reliving old memories, Jack?”

            Jack grinned lazily, hips thrusting into Alonso’s eager mouth. He wasn’t deepthroating him anymore, most likely due to the fact that John’s hips pounding into his arse was making it hard to concentrate. But his tongue was still sliding over Jack’s arousal, cheeks hollowing and sucking him in with each lazy thrust.

            “Just thinking how good your lips would look where Alonso’s are.” A slight whimper distracted Jack, and he glanced down to see Alonso glaring up at him. “Not that you’re not doing great.” He reassured him, running a hand down his cheek and over his stretched lips. A particularly forceful thrust from John caused Alonso to drop his eyes, moaning around Jack’s length. Without realizing it, Jack and John had settled into a rhythm with each other, each thrusting forward into Alonso’s orifices in unison.

            John was grinning madly, increasing his pace. “You enjoying this, Alonso?”

            A moan from Alonso and thrust backwards onto John’s hips was all the answer John needed. He slapped Alonso on the arse – Jack rolled his eyes: he had seen John do the gesture too many times for it to be remotely cute anymore – and pulled Alonso’s hips backwards, changing the angle. “Think you can come just from me pounding you?”

            Another moan vibrated from Alonso into Jack. He could tell Alonso was getting close: he wasn’t sucking anymore, so much as holding his mouth open and drooling. Jack didn’t mind. He pulled himself out of Alonso’s mouth and lifted his head up, checking on him. “Almost there?”

            A mixture of a sob and a moan escaped Alonso’s throat, as he nodded furiously. “John…right there…”

            Behind him, John snorted. “I know what I’m doing,” he grunted as he thrust, looking like he almost took offense at the implication that he needed directions. Jack turned his attention back to Alonso, drawing him in for a sloppy his. Saliva dribbled out of Alonso’s mouth and onto Jack’s chin, but he ignored it, focusing instead on tongue-fucking Alonso’s mouth. A violent shudder wracked Alonso’s body, and he broke away, crying out. “Ah, ah! John, I’m…”

            John’s face was pulled tight, focused on the point of contact between his and Alonso’s body. Jack planted one last kiss on Alonso’s lips, then let him collapse into an orgasmic puddle. John had started moving again, holding Alonso’s hips in the air and fucking him almost violently. Beneath him, Alonso was whimpering and writhing, overstimulation obviously getting to be too much for him.

            Thinking quickly, Jack climbed over Alonso, pulling John into a kiss. John bit at him, and Jack tasted blood. He pulled John off Alonso and turned him around, shoving him into the wall. “Fuck, Jack, I wasn’t finished-”

            “Me neither,” Jack growled, snatching the lube from the tangled bed sheets and shoving two fingers unceremoniously into John. He grunted, grumbling at the intrusion. Jack just scissored his fingers inside John, stretching him minimally. After all, John liked it rough. Jack took a moment to slick himself up, wary of how much Alonso’s saliva would ease the passage. He didn’t like John very much, but that didn’t mean he planned on tearing him up. He leaned his weight against John, pressing his face into the wall with his free arm. “Stay still.”

            John laughed harshly. “Is that what you used to say to – fuck!” John slammed his fist into the wall as Jack thrust into him without warning. “Goddess, give a guy some warn – fuck, Jack! You…” he cut himself off, thrusting back into Jack, who had already set a brutal pace. They were both close – no need to draw this out.

            Jack pounded into John, one hand pressed firmly into John’s neck, forcing him into the wall, the other gripping at his hips. Jack wasn’t planning on giving John a reach-around, and apparently he picked up on that, because John started fisting his own arousal. “Back up, fuck. Can’t jerk myself off, pressed up against the wall.”

            Jack eased some of his weight off the arm holding John in place: just enough that he could move his hand enough to stroke himself. Jack adjusted his angle, knowing he was hitting all the right places inside John. Even as he did, John laughed. “The eye-candy…like it like this?” He grunted as Jack pressed more weight into him, thrusting into him harsher. “Like it rough? Like you to…fuck…fuck him into the wall? Ruin him? That…how he died?”

            Jack pulled out of John, rage blinding him. He shoved John off of the bed, onto the ground. A moment later he followed him, punching him in the face and straddling it. He shoved his cock down John’s throat and started fucking him mercilessly, pulling out at the last minute and coming on his face.

            For a long moment Jack and John stared at each other, panting heavily. Jack could tell, without even looking back, that John had come: he was familiar with John’s post-coital facial expressions. Even covered in come, John’s expression was satiated.

            “Feel better?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. His tongue snaked out and lapped at Jack’s come.

            “No,” Jack grumbled. He hoisted himself up off John, then extended an arm down and helped him up. John accepted it, hauling himself to his feet. He glanced around the room, eyes finally lighting on Jack’s vest. He snatched it off the ground and used it to wipe the come off his face.

            “You must really have it bad. Usually an angry shag does it for you.”

            Jack sighed, suddenly more tired than he had been in months. He collapsed back on the bed, stroking at Alonso’s back when he grumbled and shifted at the sudden movement. “I do. Why do you think I’m doing all of this,” he waved a hand around.

            John joined him on the bed, propping himself up against the opposite wall from where Alonso’s head was, crossing his legs on Jack’s lap. “Figured he was like the others.”

            Jack ran a hand through his hair. “What I tried to tell myself…” he grumbled.

            John seemed uncomfortable, and for a brief moment an unreadable expression flitted across his face. But then it was schooled into casual cockiness again, and he shrugged. “Mind if I catch some sleep before I head out?”

            Jack could already feel himself drifting off, even as John asked. He nodded, letting his eyes slip closed.

**

            When Jack woke up, John was gone. Panicking, he checked his vortex manipulator. Still secured to his wrist, still fully functional, and now, fully charged for a jump. He lifted his head up from Alonso’s back and glanced around the room. Clothes still in a pile on the floor, – honestly, Jack, you couldn’t at least throw them over the chair? – backpack still sitting the corner. If John had stolen anything, Jack couldn’t see it. Probably money, at worst. That didn’t concern Jack, so he stretched, contented.

He checked the wrist strap again. It needed another hour to charge enough to take two. His stomach growled, reminding him that it would be an excellent idea to grab some food for both him and Alonso before they left for 1941. Slipping off the bed as quietly as possible, he gathered up his clothes, forgoing the come-stained vest for just tossing his shirt on. Thanks a lot, John. Another moment of panic set in, and his hand flew up to check his breast pocket. A cylindrical vial shifted beneath his fingers under the fabric, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Gathering up his coat, he headed out the door, a lightness to his step he hadn’t felt in a long time. Just a few more days. Such a short time between himself and his Ianto.

 

            When Jack came back to the room, two bags of food gripped in one hand, Alonso was getting up. He had his jeans pulled on, and was sniffing a shirt in his hand curiously. “Hey.” Jack greeted Alonso, tossing the food on the desk. “Got some food; figured I’d eat before I go.”

            The look Alonso shot him made Jack immediately rethink the way he phrased the sentence. “I…I thought…”

            Jack waved a hand. “Right, sorry. Yeah, you can come, too.” Alonso still didn’t seem reassured, so Jack waved his wrist at him. “Look, this thing was fully charged enough to take a single person back hours ago; I could have left without you. But I waited for it to charge enough to take both of us. Alright?”

            Alonso seemed reassured by that, and he grinned, pulling the shirt over his head. He grabbed a bag of food and went back to the bed, sitting cross-legged on it, with his back against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, Jack picked up his own bag of food and followed him over. Ianto never let him eat on the bed – but best not to think of that now.

            “Where’d John get to?” Jack glanced up at Alonso, who was peering curiously at his food. It was a basic sandwich-protein sort of thing – tasted like a cheap soy burger, to Jack. It was certainly edible enough, but Alonso was picking at it like it was cat food.

            “Was gone when I woke up. Figure he’s off to find his next bed, or con, or both.”

            Alonso looked…disappointed? Jack groaned mentally. Really? Had John been that good of a shag? A horrible thought struck Jack: had he been that bad of a shag, to make John seem that good?

            “Oh, that’s too bad. I was hoping he’d stick around for a while.”

            Taking a vicious bite out of his burger-thing, Jack snarled. “Was he that good of a shag?”

            Alonso’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. Thinking quickly, he corrected himself and nodded. “He was, but that wasn’t all. He was also…just nice. I liked him. Liked talking to him.” He grinned over at Jack. “And his tongue was…just…wow. He could do amazing things with it.”

            Jack raised an eyebrow at Alonso’s crotch, which was beginning to show signs of arousal beneath the jeans. He just grinned back at Jack. “Well, it was. You should know.”

            Jack conceded the point. “His tongue’s nice, I’ll give him that. But he’s not. John’s one of the meanest bastards this side of the Horsehead. Whatever gave you the impression that he was nice?”

            Alonso tossed his barely-touched burger into the bag. “Well, he’s a spot nicer than you. At least he was up front about what we were getting into. And he doesn’t treat me like a kid.”

            “Well, he actually sort of did. I mean, he topped you, after all,” Jack couldn’t help pointing out.

            “What’s wrong with bottoming?”

            “Nothing!” Jack’s eyes widened. Goodness knows he had no problem with bottoming. Especially not with Ianto. He preferred it with Ianto, even. That man just knew how to control him, and dominate, and pound him into the headboard until his arse felt he’d never be able to sit again, immortal healing abilities or no…

            Jack shook himself out of his reverie. “Nothing’s wrong with bottoming. But with John, he…” Jack considered his next words carefully. “John sees it as a power play. If he’s on top, he’s in control, he’s the ‘man’. I don’t see it that way, but John does.” Jack’s grin turned sly. “It’s why I topped him.”

            Alonso still didn’t seem convinced. “You topped me, too.” He paused. “You don’t like bottoming, do you?”

            Jack shook his head. “No! Ianto topped more often than-”

            The look Alonso was giving him caused Jack to cut himself off. He ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, just…forget I said anything. Just remember that John Hart can’t be trusted, nor is he a good guy. He’s a fine shag, and can help out when there’s something in it for him, but you just can’t rely on the guy.”

            Alonso still didn’t look all that convinced, so Jack decided to just drop it. If Alonso ended up getting involved with John at some later date, then whatever happened would be on his head, not Jack’s. He had warned him, after all. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. Let’s just get packed and ready to make the jump.”

            They tossed the food out in the trash, and Jack deactivated his room card, checking them out. He and Alonso spent a few minutes scrambling around the room, tossing clothing into packs and checking to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. Finally, they were ready to go.

            Jack wrapped an arm around Alonso’s waist. “Now, this is gonna feel really weird at first. You might throw up: don’t feel bad if you do.” Alonso already looked a tad nauseated, just at the prospect of what they were about to do. “Some ground rules: don’t go messing around with things. Don’t shag any women – you don’t want to get someone pregnant. Men should all be fine, since 20^th century Earth men can’t get pregnant.”

            Alonso laughed. “No interest in women, anyway, so shouldn’t be a problem.”

            “Really?” Jack shrugged. “Eliminating a whole gender, there. Anyway, no getting involved in major historical events,” not that Jack ever followed that particular rule… “though that shouldn’t be a problem, since we’ll only be there for a few hours. Number one rule: don’t run in to me. I’m back in this time, and we cannot, under any circumstances, cross my timeline. Just stick with me, do what I tell you, and we should get in and out without incident.”

            Alonso nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

            Jack squeezed him closer, waggling his eyebrows a bit. “Alright then. Alonso: let me introduce you to London, 1941.”

**

            Alonso vomited the moment their feet hit solid ground. Poor thing. Jack went to him, rubbing soothing lines up and down his back. “It’s alright. Happens to most, first time.”

            Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Alonso groaned. “Sorry, sorry.”

            “It’s alright, I told you it was probably going to happen. John threw up his first time; me too.”

            After waiting another few seconds to be sure, Alonso straightened up. “That’s a little more reassuring.” His eyes slid to Jack’s. “Did Ianto?”

            Jack grimaced. Kid was getting bolder with his questions, wasn’t he? “He never time traveled with me. My manipulator’s been broken for a few centuries,” besides those few times with the Doctor, but Alonso didn’t need to know all the details, “and John just fixed it. It was never working when Ianto…” he sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. The pain was a little bit less, now that he had some hope. But that didn’t mean it was pleasant, thinking about his regrets with Ianto. “Never had the chance.”

            “Will you? I mean, travel with him. If it works?”

            When it works, Jack mentally corrected Alonso. “I don’t know. It’s up to him, really. I’ve seen it all, done it all. I just need to be with him – where we are doesn’t matter.”

            “You must really love him.”

            Jack’s breath hitched, and tears welled up in his eyes. “Listen, do we really need to have this conversation in…” he glanced around, assessing their location for the first time, “in an alley?”

            Huh. Why did this alley look familiar? Then again, all alleys sort of looked the same. But this one in particular…Oh. Oh!

            “Shit! Alonso, we need to get out of here.”

            Alonso’s eyes widened, but true to his earlier promise, he followed Jack without asking questions. Jack grabbed Alonso’s arm and ran down the street. Just as they reached the end of the alleyway, a door banged open behind them. Both men turned just in time to see two men stumble out into the alleyway. The first was a clearly inebriated, and just as clearly turned on, blonde British man. The second… “That’s…” Alonso wondered. Jack flung himself and Alonso around the corner and continued to race down the street.

Four, five blocks later, and he finally slowed to a walk, a panting Alonso slowing with him. “Can…can I ask…”

            Jack nodded, a bit winded himself. “Yeah. Sorry. That was the alley behind the Royal Air Force headquarters. I…um…frequented it throughout the war.”

            Alonso nodded. “Why’d you land us there, then?”

            “Erm…” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I was so focused on the date, I didn’t really pay attention to where in London we were setting down. I guess the manipulator just picked somewhere that was familiar to me.”

            They were walking down the darkened streets, heading toward the place where Jack had hid the hospital ship all those centuries ago. He could see the Doctor, while he was here. But it wouldn’t do him any good, since he wouldn’t be able to give him answers. Plus, running into him might actually end the existence of everyone in the universe, and he had promised John he wouldn’t do that.

            They rounded a corner, coming out into an open space. Jack glanced around. “Alright, so we just have to get in there, grab a few nanogenes, and get out. We can’t take all of them, otherwise…” he waved his hand vaguely, “timelines, all that.”

            “Can’t we just wait around until after you do whatever you did with it?”

            Jack shook his head. “No opportunity to; it has to be before.”

            He glanced around. There was the guard…shit, what was his name? He knew him at one point…but that was centuries ago. Maybe he could just bluff his way in…

            “Hey! How you doing tonight?” Jack strode forward, Alonso following in his wake. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

            The man…damn it, Jack still couldn’t remember his name…started grinning as soon as he saw Jack. His grin faltered when he noticed Alonso behind him. “Hey Jack. Who’s your…friend?”

            “Just a friend.” Jack winked at the man, sidling up a bit closer than 1941 British law might deem appropriate. He whispered in the man’s ear, “Bit young, for me. Just showing him around. I’ll be free later, though…”

            The man immediately perked up, and even went so far as to give Alonso a victorious smile. “Ah, alright then. I’ll see you around later then, Jack.”

            “Absolutely.” A wink and a smirk, and Jack swept past, dragging Alonso along with him.

            Once they were out of earshot, Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad that worked. Lost my psychic paper decades ago.” He glanced over at Alonso and noticed the somewhat hurt look on his face. “Hey, you know, I had to…”

            “I know, I know.” Alonso grimaced. “But it’s true: I am just your friend. At most, fuck buddy. And I know, I get it,” Alonso hurried on, “just don’t like to be reminded of it.”

            “Alonso-”

            “Is that it?” Alonso cut him off, pointing at the covered ship.

            Jack nodded, bounding over to it. “Good, still here.” As he uncovered the ship, he gestured at Alonso. “Hey, grab the bottle out of my pack. The one with the red top, not the black.”

            Alonso rummaged through his backpack, hands emerging triumphant with the glass bottle. Jack opened the top, then turned to the ship. “Okay, gotta do this fast: can’t have all the nanogenes getting out.” He opened the hatch, shoved the bottle in for a second. He capped the bottle and pulled it out, slamming the ship hatch shut just as quickly. The whole procedure took less than thirty seconds.

            Alonso stared at the apparently empty bottle skeptically. “Are they in there?”

            Jack nodded at Alonso. “Only one way to find out.” He glanced down at himself. “I can’t test them, since I heal fast anyway. So…” he looked apologetically at Alonso. “Do you have any cuts? Abrasions?”

            Luckily, Alonso caught on to what he was asking and nodded. “Sure, hang on.” Glancing around, he spied a piece of barbed wire on the fence. Reaching up, he pricked his finger with it, drawing out a small line of blood. “Go ahead.”

            Before opening the bottle, Jack leaned forward and kissed Alonso gently. “Thanks.”

            Alonso shrugged, resigned. “It’s fine. Just heal it up: it sort of stings.”

            Carefully Jack maneuvered Alonso’s finger so that it was positioned just above the bottle. He opened the top just a centimeter, for just a moment. Sure enough, the cut on Alonso’s finger glowed gold for a second, before sealing up without the trace of a scar. He wiggled his finger, examining it. “Looks like they’re good.”

            Jack nodded. “Perfect. Now let’s just get out of here before…”

            A voice reached them from the distance. It sounded smooth, but with an edge of nervousness beneath it. Jack and Alonso spun around in unison, equal parts shock as they saw a much younger Jack speaking to the same man they had just bluffed their way past. With a panicked look, Jack and Alonso raced off in the opposite direction. They managed to make it out through the back fence of the lot, and didn’t stop running until they were well into the streets of the city proper again.

            Alonso slowed to a walk first, panting heavily. “That was a different you from the one we saw in the alley, wasn’t it? This one looked younger: the other one looked the same as you do now.”

            Jack nodded. “This one was me before my accident with immortality. The other one was me a century later, after I had been waiting around Cardiff for the Doctor. I joined the RAF for the second time.” He paused, considering. “Technically I suppose it was the third Captain Jack Harkness they had flying around, since I borrowed the name from a man who died in battle.”

            Alonso looked at him in shock. “How many Captain Jack Harkness’ were there on Earth in 1941?”

            Jack ticked them off on his fingers. “The man I borrowed the name from, me pre-immortality, me post-immortality waiting for the Doctor, me frozen in a vault in Torchwood Three in Cardiff, and there’s one of me in a dancehall for a single night. Plus this me now.”

            Alonso was incredulous.

            “What?” A flush crept its way up Jack’s neck. “I like the uniforms, alright?”

            At that, Alonso laughed, shaking his head. “Well, time to head to Ianto? We have the nanogenes and the antivirus.”

            Automatically, Jack’s hand went up to his breast pocket. The vial rolled beneath his fingers: still there. He then flipped open his wrist strap. “Can’t, yet. It needs time to charge again: we’re not near a natural Rift like in Cardiff, so it takes a little longer.” He glanced around. “Guess we’ll have to shack up in a hotel.”

            “Preferably somewhere we won’t run into one of your former selves,” Alonso teased. The two men shared a quick grin, before setting off to find accommodations for the night.

 

 

           Jack decided to get a room at a hotel well on the opposite end of London that he used to frequent. He had to stop by the bank first, and withdrew just enough to pay for the night at the hotel as well as a couple of meals for Alonso and himself. As they were walking the streets, looking for a hotel after Jack had withdrawn the money, Alonso asked him about it. “How do you know you have money in an account?”

            Jack shrugged. “I’ve lived here enough times to have money saved away.”

            “But, won’t your past self notice the missing money?”

            Jack waved the question away. “Eh, I never really pay attention to it. I figure there’s me’s popping in and out of time all over the place, so I just save money when I can, collect interest, and don’t worry too much about the actual amount in there.”

            The two men stopped in front of a small hotel that looked nice enough. Jack held the door open for Alonso, then swept in behind him. He slapped a few pounds down on the front desk and flashed a gigawatt smile at the young woman sitting behind the desk. “One room for the night, if you please?”

            The girl glanced uncertainly between the two men. Jack kept his smile firmly in place. “We’re on leave, trying to save some money.” Understanding flashed across the girl’s face and she nodded, smiling brightly.

            “Oh! Of course!” She took Jack’s money and handed them a room key with a number on it. “Have a nice night!”

            Jack winked at her. “Oh, we plan on it.”

            Whisking Alonso away up the stairs, Jack dragged him into room twenty-four. He tossed his backpack on the ground and swept Alonso up, twirling him around in an exaggerated dance. “Well, what do you want to do?” Jack led Alonso around the cramped floor of the hotel room, two-stepping like a master. “We could get dinner, go dancing, come back here…”

            An uncertain smile spread across Alonso’s face as he allowed Jack to twirl him around the small room. “Well…I suppose…”

            “Beautiful!” Jack kissed Alonso, then dragged him back out of the room. “We’ll go find a club over on this end of town; I don’t think I ever visited any of those. And four out of the five Jacks in 1941 shouldn’t be hanging around right now, anyway.” The two men stampeded down the stairs and raced out of the front door, ready for a night on the town.

            Jack darted down the streets, hand wrapped tight around Alonso’s wrist. He was…elated. Ecstatic. Enthused. Effervescent. When Ianto came back, he could think of some more alliterative synonyms to describe how Jack felt right now. Just a few more hours, less than a day, certainly, and Ianto would return to him. He had the nanogenes, and the antivirus – Jack’s hand instinctively felt at his breast pocket, vial rolling reassuringly beneath his fingertips – and he was in 1941 with an adorably sexy young man. All that was left was to return to Cardiff and pick up Ianto’s body, and Ianto would be back with him.

            Big band music tinkled over on Jack’s left, and he turned, yanking Alonso down the alleyway with him. Another block, and the music was louder, pouring out of a warmly lit building in front of them. Jack burst through the doors, grin splitting his face. The music rolled off the stage where the band was playing, engulfing Jack and Alonso. Without a second thought, Jack pulled Alonso onto the dance floor with him, spinning him around and joining the other dancing couples.

            They danced until their feet ached and faces hurt from smiling. Then Jack pushed Alonso down into a chair and threw himself into one opposite. He waved a waiter over and ordered them two steaks, a glass of red wine for Alonso, and two glasses of champagne. When the waiter returned with their drinks and plates, Jack raised his glass of champagne in toast. Alonso quickly followed suit. “To you, Alonso: without you, I’d never found the 456 home world, never have found the antivirus, and never have hoped to bring Ianto back. Thank you.”

            Alonso smiled back, a little tightly if Jack was any judge, but clinked his glass against Jack’s and took a long swallow. Jack sipped at the champagne, then set it back down on the table, mostly full, and reached for his glass of water instead. Alonso finished off his glass, glancing up at Jack on the last swallow. “You shouldn’t really be thanking me, you know,” he deferred. “After all, it’s the Doctor who put us together.”

            The smile on Jack’s face flickered for a moment, but even a mention of the Doctor wasn’t enough to fully dampen his spirits that evening. “Yeah, well, there was a lot he could have done that would have avoided all of this in the first place.”

            Biting his lip, Alonso pressed on. “Well, maybe it was all so we could, you know. Meet each other?”

            Jack’s smile fell a little bit, at that. “You know, Alonso…” The poor kid looked like a puppy anticipating a kick. Jack leaned forward across the table, placing a hand gently over Alonso’s. “You know, Alonso, you’re a great kid. You are. But…”

            Alonso pulled his hand out from under Jack’s. “But I’m not Ianto.”

            Jack felt genuinely badly, and he tried to convey it to Alonso. “Yeah,” he said, as gently as he could. “It’s just…it’s all about Ianto. It’ll always be Ianto. And, that’s not your fault. It says nothing about you – just about him.”

            Alonso still looked hurt, so Jack reached for his hand, cupping it between both of his. “Listen,” he kissed Alonso’s captured hand, then continued to hold it, massaging it lightly, “what if I got you a job where Ianto and I worked? When we get back?”

            “You mean, fighting aliens?”

            Jack grinned. Alonso’s face was looking a bit more relaxed and in higher spirits. “Yeah. Well, not always fighting. Sometimes more…liaisoning. I figure you’ve got the qualifications, what with helping the Doctor out and being from off world. What do you think?”

             A flicker of doubt crossed Alonso’s face. “What about Ianto?”

            “What about him?”

            “Well, won’t he be mad about…” Alonso gestured between the two of them with his free hand.

Jack lifted a few fingers from Alonso’s hand in a casual dismissal. “He’ll be fine. Who knows, after he gets his feet back under him, he might be interested in…well.” Jack waggled his eyebrows. A niggling Welsh-accented voice picked up in the back of his head. Right bastard, you are, sir. Extending invitations to threesomes on my behalf to your current bed-warmer? Jack pushed the voice aside. Soon enough that voice would be admonishing him in actuality: no need to give it voice when the man himself wasn’t there.

Alonso withdrew his hand from Jack’s grasp, although his expression stayed pleased. “Well, I’ll let you two sort yourselves before getting involved in anything. You’ll need time to yourself, at first. I’d imagine.”

“Jack? Jack Harkness?” A man’s voice, sounding slightly drunk, cut through Alonso and Jack’s conversation. He turned, looking for the source of the call. Stumbling toward him, through the crowd of dining and dancing guests, was…

“Tom? Tom Jenkins? Why you old dog you…” Jack stopped halfway through standing up. Oh. Right. Jack’s mind flickered back. This was the guy…with the girlfriend that caught them…right.

“Listen, I can explain…” Jack started again, straightening fully. He held his hands palms out, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. “I’m really sorry about, uh…” Shit. What was her name?

To his surprise, upon reaching him, Tom grabbed Jack’s coat in both fists and pulled him down for a brutal kiss. Jack went with it, kissing Tom back. The scrappy young sailor must have forgiven him, after all, and he was celebrating tonight…

With sudden ferocity, Tom pulled back and punched Jack in the face, sending him stumbling into a rising Alonso. “You bastard! Eloise left me! She told my parents! D’you know what that’s like? For your parents to know what we did? And…she told them…” Tom was having trouble getting his words out through a mixture of hiccups and sobs. “She told them, how we were…with you…” he nodded at Jack.

Alonso caught on first. He glanced up at Jack, who was still leaning into Alonso’s arms, reeling from the punch. “You topped him, too? I really think you do have a problem bottoming.”

Jack hoisted himself up, glancing between the two men incredulously. “I told you, Ianto topped all the time! I don’t have a problem, you two just seemed to like it that way…”

“Bastard!” Tom started forward at Jack again, but he stumbled, and ended up collapsing against Jack’s chest. Jack instinctively wrapped his arms around the young man, cupping a hand around his neck and stroking soothingly.

“Hey, hey, Tom, I’m sorry. Listen, let me make it up to you. I’ll give you a nice hotel room to hold up in, some cash for room and board, until we get you on your feet again, okay?”

Jack’s reassurances only served to anger Tom further, and he shoved out of Jack’s embrace. “No! No, you’ll…you’re gonna pay…” he glanced around, eyes blinking slightly out of sync. It would be downright adorable if the poor sod wasn’t so livid at the moment. Still, it made Jack smile in his head.

Tom pointed a finger at Alonso and Jack. He raised his voice to be heard over the music, and shouted, “These two men are homosexuals!”

Whether it was good or lucky timing, the song the band was playing ended at the exact moment that Tom raised his voice to shout. His accusation reverberated through the silence of the club, spreading shock in its wake. Jack hesitated, glancing around. There was a group of men over by the bar that didn’t look all too pleased with Jack or Alonso at that moment, and were setting down their drinks, glancing at each other.

“Jack? Jack, why is that a problem? Jack?”

Jack spun halfway around, glancing at Alonso. “It’s illegal to practice homosexuality in 1941 Britain.”

Alonso, bless his heart, looked incredulous. “What? That’s…that makes no sense. Why would it be illegal?”

Jack sighed. “You’re asking the wrong guy. Just one of the less-than-admirable quirks to this place and time.”

The men at the bar were now stalking their way over to Jack and Alonso. They didn’t look like they were about to succumb to Jack’s famous charm. Making a quick calculation, Jack turned back to Alonso and grabbed his wrist.

“Sorry to make you eat and run, Alonso, but…”

Alonso nodded, already running with Jack before he even finished his sentence. They raced out of the club, leaving their half-eaten steaks on the table. Jack had enough mind to drop twenty pounds on the table as he swept up his greatcoat and ran out.

The next few minutes were a blur of darkened alleyways, wet shoes, and the stamp of boots pursuing them. After about six blocks, Jack pulled Alonso into the back door of their hotel, and clutched him close in the doorway. They stood there, holding each other and breathing heavily as they listened for the sound of stamping boots. A minute of quiet panting later, and there was no sign of the other men. Jack loosened his hold on Alonso and grinned down at him. The young man grinned back, eyes shining, before reaching up and pulling Jack down into a heated kiss.

Jack kissed him back, thrusting his tongue into Alonso’s mouth and sucking at his lower lip. Alonso moaned into his mouth, nipping at Jack’s lips even as he tried to shove him backwards. “Room,” Alonso managed to groan out.

With a mighty shove, Jack pushed Alonso into the wall, grinding his hips down onto Alonso’s arousal. The younger man whimpered, fingers digging into Jack’s coat. “Why don’t I take you right here?” Jack continued to thrust against Alonso, setting up a brutal rhythm that he knew would have the young man coming within minutes. “Could rip down your trousers, shove you against the wall and fuck you until you scream. You want that?”

Alonso whimpered again. He tried to nod and shake his head at the same time. Jack thought it looked absolutely adorable. He bit down on Alonso’s neck, sucking up a sizable hickey. “But, then again…” Jack abruptly stilled his hips and pulled them back, holding Alonso in place with his upper body so he couldn’t follow him. Alonso’s hips thrust wildly at thin air for a moment, before he slammed his head back against the wall with a loud thud.

            “Then again…” Jack continued, “I wanted to prove to you how good of a bottom I can be, tonight. Would you like that?”

            Jack pulled back as he spoke, wanting to see the expression on Alonso’s face. Sure  enough, the young man’s eyes widened, then dilated with the surge of lust that flooded his system. He tackled Jack, shoving his tongue into his mouth and sucking viciously at Jack’s lips. Jack laughed into the kiss, letting Alonso shove him toward the stairs and up to their room.

            As they entered the room, Alonso immediately started tearing off his clothes, boots and shirt first, followed by trousers, pants, and socks. Jack only had time to toss his greatcoat in the corner and carefully pull off his shirt – vial still in there, laying it carefully over the chair in the corner – before Alonso was on him, tongue pressing into his mouth, fingers fumbling with the button and zip on Jack’s trousers. Jack let him fumble, delighting in Alonso’s eagerness and arousal. This was, after all, possibly their last night together: might as well make the most of it.

            Jack guided Alonso to the bed, letting himself be shoved flat onto it, as Alonso ripped his trousers and pants off in one fell swoop. Jack laughed, yanking Alonso down on top of him and kissing him soundly. He still had his vest on, though he was naked from the waist down. Jack shucked off his last piece of clothing and tossed it in the corner, before rolling off Alonso and onto his stomach on the bed. He spread his legs wide, wiggling his arse in the air.

            “Alright, Alonso. You wanted to see me bottom? Go ahead.” For added emphasis, Jack reached around and slapped himself on the arse.

            His display must have had an affect, because Alonso growled and jumped on top of him, nipping and biting at his thighs. Jack reached back and waved a bottle of lube at Alonso – slipped out of his greatcoat pocket and palmed earlier – before lifting up his hips enough to slide a hand between himself and the bed so that he could stroke himself.

            Trembling, slicked fingers traced a line down his crack, and Jack sighed, canting his hips up. Alonso was nervous, that much Jack could tell. It was possible he had never topped before, though Jack felt it would be inappropriate to ask just at this moment. The tentative way his fingers were gliding over Jack’s entrance, pressing forward but pulling back before they breached him, was exquisite, and Jack moaned and pressed his hips backwards to communicate that to Alonso.

            Then a single finger was entering him, and Jack immediately loosened his muscles. “Another,” he said. Alonso sucked a breath in behind him, but obeyed, pressing another finger in. He only thrust the two fingers in and out, not stretching him. Jack decided to hurry the process along, and he reached back and shoved two of his own fingers alongside Alonso’s inside himself, unlubricated. He heard an empathetic hiss escape from Alonso, and Jack reached his other hand back, patting Alonso’s thigh reassuringly. “It’s alright. I’m good at this: I have excellent muscle control back there.”

            Jack waggled his eyebrows out of habit, even though he knew Alonso couldn’t see him. Alonso’s hand gripped at Jack’s on his thigh. “Just…sorry. Wanted to do a good job…”

            Jack grinned, thrusting back. “You are. Here,” Jack pulled his own fingers out, “put three in. And spread them. We’re trying to loosen me up, right?”

            Alonso did as he was instructed, and Jack groaned at the feel of Alonso’s long fingers spreading inside of him. “Good, good. Now, if you can find it…” Alonso collapsed his fingers and pressed forward further, pressing up against that little pleasure nub. Jack thrust backwards, fucking himself slowly on Alonso’s fingers. “Ah, perfect. Fuck, you’re good at finding it, aren’t you?”

            Jack swore he could feel Alonso blush behind him. “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice on…myself…”

            Before Alonso could work himself up and get too flustered, Jack clenched down on his fingers, eliciting a sharp gasp from behind him. “I’m ready. Alonso, come on.”

            Alonso’s fingers left Jack, and he occupied his time by stroking himself slowly as he waited. He heard the lid on the lube pop shut, and the soft, wet noises of Alonso spreading it over himself. A moment later and the bed was shifting beneath Alonso’s weight, until Jack felt his blunt head press against his entrance. “Ready?” Alonso’s voice was thick with arousal, and Jack grinned. He’d bet good money, good intergalactic currency, that the boy had never topped before.

            Jack decided it was best not to tease him, and instead pushed his hips back, increasing the pressure of Alonso’s erection against his entrance. “Ready.”

            He could tell Alonso held his breath as he entered him, excruciatingly slowly. Jack gritted his teeth at the torturous pace, but stopped himself from pushing back onto Alonso. He might be having trouble controlling himself, and Jack didn’t want his first experience topping to end prematurely. “Good, Alonso, good. Get it all the way in there.”

            Jacked contended himself with feeling the fullness of Alonso as he stretched him, pushing in deeper and deeper until his hips were flush with Jack’s. The younger man let out a shuddering exhale then, entire body shaking with repressed desire. “That’s it. Now move, Alonso.”

            Alonso did as he was told, pulling his hips back and pressing back in, almost as slowly as at first. Jack groaned: out of frustration, rather than arousal. At this rate, the war would be over by the time they finished. “Faster, Alonso.” Jack pressed his hips back, still cautious of Alonso’s state of arousal. His muscles were loose as he could make them around Alonso, even though he wanted to squeeze and bear down on him, fucking him from beneath.

            Alonso continued to pull out and thrust back in slowly, although the pace began to pick up as he grew more confident. Soon he was thrusting into Jack steadily, hips slapping against Jack’s with each powerful thrust. Jack resumed stroking himself, canting his hips slightly upward as he searched for… “Ah, there, Alonso! Perfect. Keep…fuck…going…right there…” Jack let himself go then, thrusting back against Alonso and riding him from below. Alonso didn’t seem to mind, if the moans, groans, and finger-shaped bruises forming on Jack’s hips were anything to go by.

            “Fuck, Jack. I’m…I’m close…can’t…”

            Jack grinned, that shit-eating grin that spelled trouble for Alonso, if the boy could only see it. “Good. Alonso, come. Go ahead. Fill me up, Alonso.” He clenched, then, around an unsuspecting Alonso. He shouted, screamed almost, and came inside Jack. His truncated fingernails dug into Jack’s hips, and his hips twitched and spasmed as his body greeted its release. Jack jerked himself sharply to orgasm, cresting a few moments after Alonso. It was just in time, too: the next moment Alonso’s knees gave way, and he collapsed on top of Jack, pressing him into the bed.

            Jack grunted a little as he felt his come press into his stomach, and Alonso’s drip out of him and onto his thighs. Sometimes he liked the messiness of sex, but that was usually when he was messing someone up – mostly Ianto, really. At the moment the mess was just that: mess.

            “Roll over,” Jack grumbled.

            All noodle limbs and self-satisfied, Alonso rolled off Jack and onto the bed. Jack lifted an arm and rested it on Alonso’s back, patting him lightly. “Good job.”

            Alonso snorted into the bedspread. “Sound like you’re talking to a pet.”

            “Well,” Jack rolled into Alonso, throwing a leg over his thighs, “I was satisfied. You seemed pretty pleased with the whole endeavor. Am I right?”

            Alonso finally turned his head to look at Jack. A lazy grin was planted on his face. “Yeah. It was…” Alonso’s eyes drifted down Jack’s body to his haunches. “You’re a pushy bottom.”

            Jack knew Alonso didn’t mean anything by it. Knew he couldn’t know. But that still didn’t stop his breath from hitching in his throat, and his eyes from stinging. Immediately the grin fell from Alonso’s face, replaced by worry. “Oh, oh no. I said something, didn’t I? I’m sorry-”

            Jack waved a hand, cutting him off. He let the hand fall back onto Alonso’s shoulder, using the bit of contact to reaffirm to Alonso that he wasn’t angry with him. “It’s alright. That’s just what I said to Ianto, first time we had sex.”

            Alonso nodded. “So, he bottomed, first time?”

            Jack nodded. “Yeah. Bottomed the first part of our…of us knowing each other. It took a while for him to come out of his shell, to really feel comfortable asking for what he wanted in the bedroom, and places beyond. But when he finally did…” Jack shook his head ruefully. “He was amazing. Brilliant and oh-so-proper on the outside but oh-so-filthy on the inside…”

            He hesitated, glancing at Alonso. “Sorry. I…I didn’t mean…”

            Alonso nodded in understanding, though his eyes flickered down and he swallowed thickly. “It’s alright. You love him, and…” he shrugged. “There’s no ‘us’, is there, Jack? When Ianto comes back, it’s you and him, and I’m just…Alonso.”

             Jack winced. He leaned forward and kissed Alonso tenderly on the lips. “You might be Alonso, but you’re not ‘just’ Alonso. You’re a great guy. I’m gonna get you a job, if you want it, and it’ll be great. You’ll see.”

            Alonso moved forward, burying his face in Jack’s neck. Hesitating for only a moment, Jack wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m sorry, Alonso. But it’s only about Ianto: it’s only ever been about Ianto. There’s only him.” Jack rubbed his hands up and down Alonso’s back, trying to convey how sorry he honestly was.

            Beneath him, Alonso nodded, face never leaving its place pressed into Jack’s neck. “I know, Jack. I…I should have known it from the start.” A shuddering sigh, then: “Just give me this night, with you. Please? Just sleeping – we can leave first thing in the morning.”

            Planting a kiss on the top of Alonso’s head, Jack placed his cheek against him. “Anything you want, Alonso. Go to sleep; I’ll wake you in the morning.”

            Within minutes, the exhausted young man was sound asleep in Jack’s secure embrace.

            That morning, Jack awoke with one hundred and seventy pounds of muscled man sleeping on top of his left arm. He edged out as carefully as he could, doing his best not to wake Alonso. His wrist strap was blinking faintly at him: fully powered up, enough for two men to make the jump. They were ready, then.

            Glancing back at Alonso, Jack slipped on his clothes: pants, trousers, shirt – vial still there, in the pocket – braces, coat, boots, and stepped outside. He needed to get some air and time to himself before they jumped back to twenty ten.

            “Ianto.” He breathed the name like a prayer as he stepped out onto the chilly London streets, just starting to wake in the early morning light. He wasn’t sure what they would find when they went back to Torchwood, but he knew he’d be able to find Ianto. If Gwen didn’t have him at Torchwood Cardiff, then Archie would have him in Glasgow. Jack had given Archie strict orders years ago that if anything happened to Torchwood Three – anything that would cause them to be unable to recover their dead – Archie was to come in and handle it. One of them would have his Ianto. And he’d get to see him again – today.

            Nerves tingling with anticipation, Jack trotted down the street, unable to simply walk. Today, today, today. Today he’d have Ianto back; today he wouldn’t be alone again; today everything that had happened over the past year, everything that had gone wrong, would be right.

            Unable to wait any longer, Jack turned around and jogged back to his hotel room. Inside, Alonso was just waking up, stretching and looking around blearily. Catching sight of Jack, he propped himself up on his elbows. “Time, is it?”

            Jack nodded. “Get your clothes back on. It’s time I introduced you to your new coworkers.”

            As Alonso shucked on his clothing, Jack elaborated. “I’m sure Gwen’s still working there,” unless something happened. Oh, please, no. “You’ll like her. Real spitfire gal.” Jack considered. “I’ll bet she called in Martha to help, as a doctor. She’s a beautiful young woman – traveled with the Doctor herself, as a companion. And if she’s there, Mickey’ll be there, too.”

            Jack frowned, trying to figure out whom else they might encounter. “Gwen’s married, and her husband Rhys is…” he grinned. “Well, we’ve had our differences, but he’s a nice guy. Devoted to Gwen, if a bit…” Jack waved his hand, “caveman.”

            Alonso had finished dressing and was standing in front of Jack, hand on his hips. Jack nodded at him. “Ready?”

            Alonso shrugged nonchalantly. “What, to meet your late boyfriend and old colleagues? Sure, completely ready.”

            Jack smiled at his nervousness, then strode across the room and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “You’ll be fine. They’ll love you.”

            A shadow passed over Alonso’s eyes – but you don’t – that Jack chose to ignore. He wrapped his arms around Alonso’s waist, punching the coordinates into his wrist strap behind Alonso’s back. “Hang on,” he said, and then they were off, flying through time and space.

**

            Jack stumbled as they landed, light and noise rushing in at him.

            “Hands on your head!”

            “Answer me! What’s your name, species, and planet of origin?”

            “What is your intent here on – holy shit it’s Jack!”

            Jack blinked, adjusting to the light. He had landed in front of the tourist office, just as he had intended. Alonso was still clinging to his side, which Jack might have chided him for, if it weren’t for the fact that there were four guns on them at the moment. Jack took a moment to observe the scene around him. Gwen was there, looking almost exactly like she had when Jack left: minus one very prominent baby bump. And Martha and Mickey were standing side-by-side, just as Jack had predicted. It had actually been Mickey who had recognized him first. Standing off to the side, the fourth gun trained on the pair of them was…

“Andy? Andy Davidson? PC Andy? You’re working for Torchwood, now?”

"Hello." Andy waved at Jack.

            Gwen was already holstering her weapon, though looking none-to-happy to be doing so. “Yes, Jack, Andy’s working with us now.” Andy practically beamed with pride at Gwen’s acknowledgement. “I had to build up the team, since I was the only one left.”

            Jack winced. He had left Gwen in a bind; he could recognize that. Still, everything seemed to be working out fine: she had Martha, Mickey, and Andy working for her. That was pretty good.

            “Who’s this, then?” Martha was stepping forward, nodding at Alonso.

            With sudden awkwardness, Alonso extracted himself from Jack’s side and stepped forward. “Hello. I’m Alonso.” Alonso extended a hand to Martha. She took it, but not before shooting Jack an inquiring look. Gwen was less kind.

            “Oh, so Ianto’s been gone not a year and you’ve managed to hook up with this young thing. Christ, Jack, is he even of age?” Jack and Alonso both winced at Gwen’s words.

            “Gwen, listen…” Jack started forward, palms out. But now that Gwen had warmed to the topic, there was no stopping her.

            “No, Jack. No! I’m not going to listen.” Gwen took a heated step forward, nudging aside Alonso and Martha, who were still trying to be civil. “You left me. Again! And you left me to deal with Ianto, and his family, and…” she gasped for a breath, “and Torchwood. And…and now, you’ve got this young little two-bit rent boy on your arm, like nothing ever happened…” Jack bit his lip at the angry tears that rushed down Gwen’s face. She wiped the back of a hand across her eyes furiously. “Didn’t he mean anything to you, Jack? He loved you!”

            And then Gwen was in Jack’s arms, sobbing hysterically, and it was all Jack could do to support her weight and stay standing. “I…” Jack looked over her shoulder at the four pairs of eyes staring back at him. “Gwen, I…I think I can bring Ianto back.”

            Contrary to the ecstatic reaction he expected, Gwen shoved herself off Jack, and slapped him across the face. He stood there, stunned, for a long moment, until Gwen started shouting at him again. “Don’t even joke about that, Jack! Don’t even hint at that, if it won’t happen. Don’t…don’t…”

            Gwen lunged forward again, but Jack stopped her, grabbing her wrists and holding her in place. “Gwen, Gwen, wait, please. I’ve been running across the galaxy, looking for a cure…I went back in time, to pick up some nanogenes,” he shook Gwen, forcing her to look in his eyes. “Gwen, this is for real. I can bring him back.”

            Gwen straightened up, tears still pouring from her eyes. But she was calmer now, the tears less angry and accusing. “You really think you can?”

            “Gwen,” Jack clasped her hands in his, “I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up if I didn’t think I could do it.” Gwen nodded, sniffling. “Where’s,” Jack hesitated, eyes flickering down to her stomach. If something had happened…but then her eyes lit up, and she gestured at the tourist office doors behind them.

            “Braith is in there,” she smiled brightly.

            “Braith?”

            Gwen blushed. “Rhys thought it would be cute. It means ‘freckled’, and he figured, with me as her mam…”

            Jack grinned broadly. “Perfect. Beautiful, hardy, Welsh name.”

            Gwen walked past him and he turned around to following her into the tourist office. He stopped short. “Uh…what happened to the tourist office?”

            Instead of the old little building, there was a nice, clean office, with a brand new sign across its front. “Harwood?” Jack gaped. “Harwood is our cover, now? Rhys’ Harwood?”

            Gwen rolled her eyes. “Well, I needed all the help I could get. And with the baby, Rhys and I needed a way to have her close to the both of us, so…” She opened the door with a flourish, bounding in to the new office.

            Rhys was standing behind the desk, lounging over a magazine in that same, bored manner that Ianto used to.  It made the breath hitch in Jack’s throat to see it, but he reminded himself that in no time at all he’d have his Ianto back. “Hey love, take care of that Rift – oi! What’s he doing here?”

            Jack sighed. This was getting old, fast. “Hey Rhys. How’s Harwood?”

            Rhys, taking his cue from his wife, came out from behind the counter and shook Jack’s hand warmly. “Great, great. Ruth’s doing the actual running of the place now, I’m just the front for Torchwood.”

            “He’s working here, too?” Gwen shot Jack another look, so he held his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He nodded at Rhys. “Good to have you on the team.”

            “Well, it’s Gwen’s team now, isn’t it?” Rhys raised his eyebrows, rocking back on his heels.

            Jack rolled his eyes but nodded. “Sure, you’re right. Gwen’s team.”

            “Who’s this, then?” Rhys nodded at Alonso.

            Oh, right. Jack had almost forgotten about him in all the commotion. Alonso waved self-consciously. “Torchwood, this is Alonso. Alonso, Torchwood. He’s been traveling with me, helping me get the things I needed to bring Ianto back.” Jack turned to Martha. “The Doctor introduced us.”

            That seemed to satisfy Martha and Mickey’s curiosity, who waved and nodded in understanding respectively. Judging by her expression, Gwen was less placated by this explanation, but held her tongue.

            “I thought he might get a job here, if you needed the help. But it looks like you’ve got plenty of hands…”

            Gwen perked up. “You haven’t even met everyone yet. Here, come on down to the base.”

            Jack frowned. This wasn’t everyone? They had a medic in Martha, a tech expert in Mickey (he had gotten pretty decent over the years of his travels, so Jack had heard), a leader in Gwen, a normal copper in Andy, and a cover story in Rhys. Who else did they need?

            Gwen turned to Rhys, bright smile on her face. “Is she awake?”

            Rhys shook his head, and suddenly that goofy, perfect-husband grin that Jack remembered appeared on his face. “Sleeping like an angel. Want me to wake her?”

            “No,” Gwen shook her head, but tiptoed over to the desk to peer behind it. Jack followed her, craning his neck to look over her shoulder. There, snuggled up in a baby carrier and tucked under the desk was baby Braith.

            “Oh Gwen,” tears sprang into Jack’s eyes. “She’s beautiful.” And she truly was. Dark hair, pale skin, and perfect little features. Her mouth puckered slightly as she slept, looking for something to suck on. An involuntary grin split Jack’s face at the sight.

            Rhys was grinning madly, proud dad that he was. “Perfect, just like her mam.”

            Gwen nodded at the door. “Come on. We’ll let you meet the last member of the team. Then you can tell me all about this plan of yours.”

            Rhys started after them, then stopped. “Plan? What plan? Should I bring Braith down?”

            “Just stay up here, sweetheart!” Gwen called after him. Jack cast a look over his shoulder to see a confused Rhys standing helplessly behind the front desk, before the door swung shut behind them.

**

            As they stepped through the cog door, Jack gaped around at the Hub. It was… “It’s the same.”

            Gwen nodded. “Well…” she nodded lightly, “I’ve made some changes. But it’s still got that sewer-chic décor, and we’ve managed to rebuild most the archives.”

            “You’ve got me to thank for that!” A voice shouted down from one of the railings.

            Jack glanced up, only to see “Lois? Ha..Ha…”

            “Lois Habiba.” The woman introduced herself, blushing slightly. She started down the stairs toward group. “Nice to see you again, Captain. And in good health, looks like.” Her eyes darted over to Alonso.

            Jacked rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to explain again. But then Alonso stepped forward, blocking Jack’s attempt at explanation. “Hi. I’m Alonso.” He stuck out his hand to Lois, who took it daintily.

            “Oh. Hi Alonso. Nice to meet you.” Alonso brought Lois’ hand up to his lips and kissed it, causing a blush to spread across her cheeks.

Jack just raised an eyebrow at the proceedings, before turning to Gwen. “I need Ianto’s body. Do you have it, here?”

Gwen bit her lip, but then nodded. “Yeah, Jack. He’s here. Archie took him while we rebuilt the cryo lab, then once we were settled a bit he turned him back over.”

Martha stepped in. “What exactly are you planning, Jack?”

He gestured around the Hub. “Med lab?”

Martha nodded. “It’s down next to the morgue, now.” She shrugged. “More convenient.”

“Lead the way.”

The mismatched group headed down a level to the morgue, where the newly built medical bay was set up. As they started down the stairs, Jack hung back and leaned into Alonso. “What was that you said about no interest in women?” he whispered.

A blush spread across Alonso’s cheeks, matching the one Lois had so recently sported herself. “Well, you were the one who said that was limiting myself.”

Jack nodded, an evil glint in his eye, but he dropped the issue. Time enough to deal with that later.

“Alright, Jack, what’s the plan?” Martha was pulling on a doctor’s coat, eyeing Jack suspiciously the whole time. Gwen was backed up in a corner, watching the whole proceedings and looking on the verge of tears.

“Two fold.” Jack pulled the vial out of his pocket and passed it carefully over to Martha, before slinging his backpack off and rummaging through it. “First, we administer the nanogenes.” He pulled out the red-capped bottle with the nanogenes and handed it over to Martha as well. “Then, we give him the antivirus. The nanogenes should bring him back, but the virus is probably nanogene resistant. Without the antivirus…” Jack took a breath, steadying himself, “without the antivirus, he’d just end up dying all over again.”

Martha looked between the vial and the bottle. “Can I do tests on either of these? Is there enough?”

Jack shook his finger at Martha. “A pinch,” he cautioned. “I know UNIT’s been dying to get their hands on nanogenes, haven’t they?”

Martha sniffed. “I wouldn’t know: I work for Torchwood, now.” Jack grinned at her. She offered a small smile back before turning to the computers surrounding the medical bay. “Right,” she said, “While I run samples of these through the system, could one of you get the body from the wall and bring it over here?”

Jack noticed that Lois automatically started forward. So she had taken over some of Ianto’s duties, then: archiving, general office work. And it looked like Rhys had taken over Ianto’s duties at keeping their cover maintained, and if Gwen was a smart woman, keeping the team fed. Jack had tried some of Rhys’ lasagna one time when Gwen had brought it in, and immediately phoned Rhys and ordered him to get the recipe to Ianto as soon as he could.

They never did have a chance to try out the recipe at home.

Jack shook himself, focusing back on what Lois and Martha was doing. Martha had evidently run the tests on the nanogenes first, and was marveling at their properties. “…five hundred years! This is incredible! What we could do with these: have them in ambulances, no one would die at an accident scene again…”

Then there was Ianto.

Jack sucked in a breath. Lois was quietly wheeling him over on a gurney – Jack wasn’t sure where she had gotten it from. He was so pale, so cold and blue looking. Jack dropped down into the med bay and walked up next to Ianto, hand flying automatically to twine with his. He flinched: cold as ice. Ianto’s hands were never cold – not even in the middle of a Cardiff winter with no gloves on. He claimed it was generations of hardy Welsh breeding that had left him immune to the cold.

“Ianto,” Jack breathed. “Ianto. Almost time. I’m bringing you back.”

He turned to Martha. “Give me the nanogenes, if you’re done with them.”

She turned around, hesitating. “Don’t you think you should wait, Jack? Give me a chance to run some tests. You’ve waited this long-”

 Something snapped in Jack. Exactly. He had waited this long: too long. He needed Ianto back now. He needed to see those blue eyes glinting with mischief, hear that beautiful, full-throated laugh, taste his coffee heavy on their tongues, feel him inside of him again…

He leapt forward, grabbing the bottle away from Martha. He opened it and poured it into Ianto’s mouth and nose. Moving just as rapidly, he snatched for the vial, which Martha had just finished taking a sample from. “Jack!” He ignored her, opening Ianto’s mouth with as much care as he could, and tipping the small amount of liquid down his throat. He massaged Ianto’s throat, feeling that familiar Adam’s apple bob beneath his fingers. Satisfied that the liquid had gone down, Jack picked up Ianto’s hand again, cradling the cold arm against his chest.

“Come on, Ianto,” he murmured. “Come back for me.”

“Jack,” Martha’s voice was a warning, but he ignored her. “Jack…this vial…it was supposed to be an antivirus?”

Something in her tone of voice made Jack turn his head slowly to look at her. “Yeah. It’s from the 456 home world. It’s the antivirus to whatever killed him.”

Martha’s eyes were wide, her face pale. She turned back to the screen once before looking back at Jack. No. No no no no no no no. Her eyes were wide with pity: the last thing Jack wanted right now. “Jack…this is saline. Salt water. There’s no antivirus here.”

Jack’s head whipped to Ianto, then up to Alonso. The young man was staring back, eyes wide. “It…it wasn’t me, Jack, please…it wasn’t…”

But Jack knew it wasn’t Alonso. Sweet, innocent, Alonso. No, he knew exactly who it was. “John,” he growled. “Fucking John Hart!”

“Captain John? What were you doing mucking around with him again?”

Jack ignored Gwen, eyes boring down on Ianto’s corpse. “No. No. Ianto, Ianto please. Please. You…you have to come back, please.”

            “No no no no no…” Jack moaned, keeping his death-grip on Ianto’s hand. “Martha, Martha you have to do something…” his voice dropped to a whisper as he stared at Ianto’s closed eyelids. “Do something.”

            Martha was already there, ripping open Ianto’s shirt and slapping sensors to his chest. “I would, Jack, if you would just move and let me do my job!”

            Jack grunted and stood up, but kept his hand clasped around Ianto’s. He wasn’t letting go now: not after he had traveled so long and so far for him.

            “Still no pulse…” Martha was slapping more sensors on Ianto as she ran back and forth between his body and the monitors. “Scanners indicating nano-activity – that must be the nanogenes, trying to do something.” Suddenly Jack felt himself being spun around, and he looked down to see Martha’s blurry face looking up at him. “Jack.”

            Jack blinked, trying to focus past the tears.

            “Jack. You said if he gets the nanogenes and not the antivirus, he’ll wake up and then die all over again?”

            A sharp pain ripped through Jack’s chest at the thought. He scrambled, searching for some hope.

            Surprisingly, it was Alonso who offered it. “But that’s only if the virus was engineered to combat nanogenes, right Jack?” Everyone turned to look at him. The young man shifted uncomfortably under the attention. “I mean…they might not have. Regis doesn’t know about nanogenes yet: maybe the Iucunds didn’t, either?”

            “Iucunds?” Gwen was looking at Alonso appraisingly.

            “Uh…Jack called them the 456.”

            Jack turned away from the conversation, focusing entirely on Ianto. “Come on, Ianto,” he whispered. “Please. Please come back. Come back for me, please.”

            “Jack…” Martha’s voice was rushed. “Jack, the body’s…it’s heating up. Not just room temperature…thirty-three degrees…thirty-four…I…it looks like his organs are coming back online…”

            Martha ran over to the table, pressing a finger to Ianto’s neck and feeling for his pulse. “Jack, I need you to move. Now!”

            With a gasp Jack moved back, dragging Ianto’s arm with him. He still wasn’t going to let go of it.

            Martha pressed her ear to Ianto’s mouth for a moment, eyes focused on the monitors the whole time. “I don’t know how much the nanogenes can do…” She pinched his nose and opened his mouth, beginning to administer CPR. Jack could see her mouth moving as she counted the amount of chest compressions. She glanced at the monitors again. “Temperature at thirty-six now, and still rising. Lois!”

            Lois came running over, hands clenching at her side nervously.

            Martha shoved a resuscitator in her hands. “Keep pumping air into his lungs.” With barely a fumble Lois took the device from Martha and fitted it over Ianto’s mouth and nose, before pumping it in rhythm. Martha was fixated on the monitors. “Body temperature thirty-seven and holding. Heart…oh bugger…” She turned sharply to Ianto.

            With a gasp, Ianto’s eyes shot open. Jack moved in, shoving the resuscitator from his mouth and Lois out of the way. “Ianto? Ianto!”

            “Jack you have to move back, the virus…”

            “Jack?” Ianto coughed, looking frantically up at Jack. “Did you use the glove? Oh, no, Jack, please don’t…”

            Ianto’s breath quickened, and the monitors began to beep frantically.

            “Jack, you need to calm him down, he’s going to give himself a heart attack!”

            “Ianto, Ianto, please…” Jack’s voice broke, his breaths coming as fast as Ianto’s. It was with a monumental effort that he took one deep breath, staring down into Ianto’s eyes. Those blue eyes he never thought he’d see again. “Ianto, please, calm down. It’s not the glove.” Ianto still looked panicked, so Jack squeezed his hand tighter and pulled Ianto’s whole arm to his chest. “Ianto, do you trust me?”

Ianto’s eyes were wide with fear, but he shut his mouth and pressed his lips together in a thin line. His eyes focused entirely on Jack, and he nodded tightly.

“Then you’ll have to just hang on for a minute and let Martha do her work. Alright?”

Again, Ianto nodded, even as his throat convulsed with nervous swallows. Jack’s eyes were brimming with tears as he looked down at Ianto. Without tearing his eyes away, he asked Martha: “What are the readings saying? Is he…what’s going on?”

There was a long, long pause as everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath – everyone except Jack and Ianto, whose panicked breaths were synchronized with each other. Then, “Life signs stabilizing…I’ll need Ianto to stay there another five minutes, and a blood sample…”

Jack sucked in a breath. “But?”

Martha turned away from the monitors. “But it looks like the nanogenes worked. I don’t think the virus was manufactured with a defense against them. Ianto…”

A grin split Jack’s face. “Ianto, you’re going to live.”

For a moment everything was silent, until Ianto’s mouth started to twitch. He looked into Jack’s eyes, searching for…something. Finally, apparently seeing what he needed to, he smiled. It was the most beautiful thing Jack had ever seen.

“Jack? I’m…I’m alive?”

Jack’s free hand went up to cup Ianto’s face, in happy imitation of the last time they had spoken. Jack laughed – slightly hysterically, but still a laugh. “You’re alive. For real,” he said, preempting any questions, “No risen mitten, or zombies, or…anything. You’re alive.”

Ianto choked, sobbing. Immediately Jack scooped him up, pulling him into a fierce hug before pulling back and kissing him.

Kissing Ianto…it felt like coming home. It felt like everything Jack had ever done wrong was made right, like every pain he had suffered was just a dream, like he would never feel lonely or lost again.

Jack pulled away, thumbs swiping over Ianto’s eyebrows, then moving down to wipe the tears from beneath his eyes. “Hey, hey, shh.” Jack couldn’t stop touching Ianto. His Ianto: his alive, warm, talking, breathing, crying Ianto.

Ianto half laughed, half sobbed, shaking his head. “I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…” Ianto trailed off, eyes drifting away from Jack for the first time since his revival. “Who are…?” Jack could tell, without turning around to follow his gaze, the instant Ianto’s eyes alighted on Alonso. “Who’s he?”

Jack glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure. Alonso was standing there, rather awkwardly, like his deepest wish at the moment was to sink into the floor. “That’s Alonso.”

“Alonso?” Oh, Jack had missed that quirked eyebrow so much. But, right. That quirked eyebrow was directed at him. Ianto was giving him that look, that impatient, why-do-I-put-up-with-you, you-better-come-clean-right-now-mister, look.

“It’s just…Alonso. He helped get the nanogenes! And the antivirus.”

Ianto remained unconvinced. “Jack, he has a hickey on his neck.” Alive for less than five minutes and he was already as perceptive as ever.

Jack shrugged. “Well…I mean…come on, Ianto. You didn’t expect…” As Ianto’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, Jack decided it might be time to change tact. “I mean, look, he really helped. A lot. And I didn’t even know I could bring you back until we had been together for a week…”

“Been together?” Ianto pushed Jack away, climbing off the table with some difficulty. Martha hovered around the edges of the conversation, needle and vial in hand for a blood sample. Both men ignored her. “How long was I dead, exactly?”

Jack hesitated, glancing at Gwen. “About a year.”

“A year!” Ianto’s eyes widened, and he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “A year…” he breathed. Then he seemed to remember he was supposed to be berating Jack, and he turned his attention back to him. “A year, Jack? Honestly? I mean, I understand you have needs, but to get a companion after a year?”

Jack sighed. So maybe he had thought this reunion would have gone a bit more…romantically. He needed to lay off the cheesy romance novels. “But, Ianto…ask Alonso, it was never any good. I was thinking about you the whole time.”

Ianto whirled on Alonso, whose face couldn’t get redder if someone dumped a bucket of paint on top of his head. “Ah. Well, that’s a consolation, of course. So tell me, Alonso: is that true?”

Alonso’s eyes darted between Jack and Ianto, obviously trying to figure out some answer that wouldn’t get him shot into low orbit. “Um…he was always thinking of you?” Alonso rushed on, after Ianto didn’t do more than twitch slightly. “The only reason he kept me around at first was because I knew where the Iucund…er, 456…home world was.”

“At first?”

Gwen, God bless her, stepped in between Ianto and Alonso at this point. “Ianto, sweetheart?”

“Gwen.” Ianto blinked, then glanced down immediately. “Did you…”

“Yes. Little baby girl named Braith.”

Ianto’s face lit up. “Oh, Gwen that’s wonderful!” He enveloped her in a hug. “Braith. Beautiful Welsh name.”

“Isn’t it?”

Jack watched fondly as Gwen and Ianto giggled about the baby for a moment. Everything would be all right. He just needed to get Ianto somewhere private so he could explain everything to him. Someplace, preferably, without Alonso. “Just so you know,” Gwen was continuing, “When this lot showed up, I did defend your honor.”

Ianto smiled. “Thanks, Gwen.” He glanced around, taking in his surroundings for a long moment. “So,” he raised an eyebrow, “is this the new team?”

**

            After a series of introductions – and Martha finally getting her hands on a blood sample from Ianto, although it did seem a rather moot point after the first ten minutes – the entire Torchwood team settled into the new conference room with take-away and coffees. “Never found any place as good as yours,” Gwen was saying, “But we made do.”

            Ianto sipped at the coffee, contemplative expression on his face. Jack just wanted to leap across the table and kiss those lips, hold those hands, feel Ianto against him again… “It’ll do for now.” Ianto pronounced, finally. He smiled at Lois. “You’ve never had a chance to try my coffee before, unfortunately.”

            She smiled back. “I’m eager to hear what all the fuss is about. Rhys and Gwen wouldn’t stop moaning over not being able to find a decent cuppa.”

            Rhys walked in then, baby Braith in his arms. “Look who’s awake.”

            Gwen was immediately up, cooing and taking her daughter from Rhys. “Oh, did you have a good nap?” She quickly became immersed in rubbing her nose against her daughter’s, so Rhys stepped in.

            “So, speaking of naps, do you lot have sleeping arrangements sorted?”

            Ianto, Jack, and Alonso all shot each other looks. Ianto was the first to speak. “I suppose my flat isn’t mine any more?”

            “Sorry mate.” Rhys shrugged. “Didn’t exactly expect you to come back, you know?”

            Ianto nodded, frowning. Jack glanced up at Rhys. “Hotel? For now?”

            “Yeah, yeah, we can do that.” He pulled out a PDA and started tapping at it. “We’ll put you up for a week, then see what we’re doing from there. Should I,” he glanced up, eyes flickering between Ianto and Jack, “How many rooms? Two, or…”

            Jack turned to Ianto, eyes widening. He never thought…of course he and Ianto would share a hotel room. Wouldn’t they?

            For a moment Ianto cocked an eyebrow at Jack, as if to say, “Oh, were we sleeping together? I forgot.” Jack felt a nervous shiver go down his spine. But then Ianto was sighing, looking back up at Rhys. “No, two rooms is fine. I suppose Jack will need some time to explain himself.”

            Mickey burst out laughing from the other side of the table, mouth half full of food. “Looks like you’re in the doghouse, mate.” He winked at Ianto. “I like you. Anybody who can put Captain Jack Harkness,” he emphasized the name with wiggling fingers, “in his place is on my side. Me ‘n Martha’ll take you out to the pub sometime, soon as you get your, er…” he shrugged, “life-legs back.”

 “Thanks.” Ianto smiled tightly at Mickey. He seemed like he was still trying to get used to this boisterous new member of the team. Ianto’s eyes flickered over to Jack. “Well, I suppose…” he glanced around, “we should check in? At the hotel?” He smiled apologetically at the other team members around the table – skipping over Alonso, Jack noted. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit tired.”

Gwen immediately leapt up, pushing baby Braith into Rhys’ arms. “Of course, sweetheart. Come on, we’ll get you to the hotel and get you settled. It must just be…” she waved her hands around, at a loss for words. “You know. Overwhelming.” She ushered Jack, Alonso, and Ianto out the door, before saying over her shoulder, “Lois, come on.”

The girl hopped up out of her seat, snatching her coffee and following them out the door. Gwen continued giving orders as she lead the three men to the new Torchwood car park. “Lois, I’ll need you to get some clothes for all three of them,” she turned to Ianto, “We have all your stuff in storage, so in a day or two we’ll head over and get what you need for now.”

Ianto nodded in understanding, before plucking at his shirt. Martha had managed to rip off most the buttons, though Rhys had luckily – or unluckily, in Jack’s mind – given him a vest to wear under it for now. “Yeah, wouldn’t mind a new kit.”

Gwen continued as Lois scribbled onto a PDA. “Jack didn’t really have much, but I suppose you’ll be needing a few shirts and trousers?” The last bit was directed at Jack, who nodded. Gwen continued. “And Alonso, you’ll need a whole wardrobe. Think you can manage that, Lois?”

Lois smiled brightly. “Of course. I’ll get a few outfits tonight, and tomorrow Alonso and I can go shopping.” Her gaze lingered on Alonso for a moment, before she shook herself and blushed. “I just mean…wouldn’t want to get you something you didn’t like, is all.”

The smile Alonso shot back was just as soppy and flushed. “Sure. I’d love you.” His eyes widened, and he hastened to amend his statement. “To take me shopping. That is.”

Jack and Ianto glanced at each other, mirroring expressions of amusement plastered across both their faces. But then Ianto seemed to remember that he was supposed to be upset with Jack, and his expression immediately fell into a glare before he looked away. Jack just grinned as he watched Ianto’s back. Ianto could never stay mad at Jack for long. Jack frowned. At least, he hoped.

**

            A quick drive to the hotel and a flurry of hugs and kisses for Gwen – and even a few hugs for Lois – and then the three men were left standing in the lobby, holding hotel keycards.

            Alonso turned to Ianto, hesitation written in every line of his body. He looked like he wanted to run, but he stayed firm, and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ianto Jones.” Jack grinned as he watched years of etiquette lessons override Ianto’s instincts and force him to shake hands with Alonso. “You really were all he talked about. The reason I stuck around so long was so I could meet you.” Ianto looked incredulous, so Alonso hurried on. “It really was. I just figured…” he glanced at Jack, and Jack saw the moment that hope died in Alonso’s eyes. “Well, you must be an extraordinary man, for Jack to love you so much.”

            With that, Alonso nodded one last goodbye to Jack and Ianto, then took off for his room.

             Jack turned to Ianto, explanation already ready on his lips. Ianto silenced him with a single look. He turned on his heel, and started for the elevators. Jack hurried to follow him, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to speak. Whatever Ianto had done to him, it worked, because Jack couldn’t for the life of him find anything to say.

            When they finally reached their hotel room Ianto opened the door and stepped inside, for all the world seeming like he was ignoring Jack completely. Jack knew better – or, at least, he was pretty sure he knew better – and followed Ianto inside without a word.

Jack stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. Ianto turned, raising an eyebrow and looking at Jack. The spell that Ianto had put over Jack’s vocal cords broke, and Jack finally found something to say. “You aren’t…” he held out a hand imploringly to Ianto. “You aren’t really upset with me. Are you?” He crossed his arms. “I did trek across a quarter of the galaxy, and sixty years back in time, just to bring you back to life.”

Ianto sighed, running his hand through his hair. But it was with a fond smile that he looked back up at Jack. “No, Jack. I’m not mad.” He sat down on the bed and patted the sheets, inviting Jack over. “Come on Jack. Let’s talk.”

End of chapter note:

            So that’s it for Part II!! I know, you’re saying finally. Sorry. I just really wanted to do a full-fledged, epic space-adventure plot arc to bring Ianto back, okay? But! For all your patience, you shall be richly rewarded. Part III is on the way next Friday, and that will have 7 chapters as well. And Ianto is alive for all of them ^.^ I’d like to thank anyone still reading this so much for sticking with it and bothering with it, even through all the Alonso stuff. So many hugs to all of you!

Next story in series - Life is All, Part III: Day Aleph-Null

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