Chapter 11

Jack was yelling again. He yelled a lot these days.

Gwen had handed him a report of alien technology discovered in a building complex and he didn't like how Mel had handled the find. It seemed to Gwen that he didn't like how a lot of things were handled lately.

His dissatisfaction had begun when they were unable to locate Ianto and had to label him dead again. Gwen hadn't revealed seeing the man off a week ago, leaving Jack to grieve for his lost love for a second time. Unlike the first time, the Torchwood leader didn't try to leave the team or stop their work. Instead, he'd become focused on their missions, which lead to much yelling. They weren't as focused as he was, or so he said.

The other complaints ranged from not following proper safety procedures to not filling reports properly to not cleaning the hub to his new standards to not making coffee right. It seemed there were many unacceptable practices in Torchwood since Ianto had vanished.

"Jack, she did her job right and you know it," Gwen shouted back.

"If she had done what she's supposed to do, that box would be intact and there wouldn't have been goats," he went on, slamming the folder on his desk. "I tell her to be thorough about things and she doesn't. I don't know why she's here."

"She's here for the same reason we are."

There was a knock at the office door.

"We're busy," shouted Jack.

Andy came in undeterred. "I was working on the Ianto case."

"It's closed."

"Went back to where the signal was at, asked the shop owners some questions."

"I already did that," Jack said, making no attempt to hide his annoyance.

"I was thinking about how Ianto had ordered something and might have been on his way to get it."

"We asked every employee at those shops if they'd heard of Ianto Jones. We showed them a picture."

"And then I asked one fellow if he'd heard of Torchwood. He said 'no,' but there was an item for a 'T. Wood' that hadn't been picked up." He pulled a small box from his coat pocket. "Said his brother might have taken the order, no contact information left and the brother's now on vacation. Just been sittin' there. Fully paid for, but no one came for it. Said it was a shame because it looked like a gift, been engraved to a 'Jack.'"

Andy handed the box over. "I think it's meant for you."

Jack took a deep breath before opening the little container. A gold stopwatch was nestled on white padding inside. He gingerly took it out, remembering Ianto muttering about losing his stopwatch before he'd disappeared. The Welshman had been quite perturbed, convinced someone had nicked it at Thames House after he'd passed away.

Turning the watch over in his hand, Jack read the inscription on the back: "Jack, time how long it lasts."

It was a cryptic message, one only he understood. Gwen and Andy were waiting for an explanation or at least for him to say something about the find. He vaguely recalled them still being in the room.

"Jack?" asked Gwen, drawing his attention.

"It is from Ianto. Was," he corrected himself. "Thanks Andy."

Jack sat down on his desk. His fingers traced the etchings in the gleaming golden surface of the stopwatch. A sweet memory played in his mind.

It was their first night together and Ianto was explaining the purpose of his stopwatch, as it related to them. The device wasn't to stop time or focus on when something ends. It was to measure how long the good feelings were there and if things were done right, one would forget to stop the watch.

With a bittersweet smile, Jack could remember how very often they left that watch running, its presence completely slipping their otherwise occupied minds. He couldn't count how many times Ianto stopped it because it couldn't last as long as their happy moments could. They out-lasted the stopwatch a lot. Jack chuckled softly to himself; they had out-lasted a fair bit. Theirs was an occasional fling that morphed into a relationship able to briefly survive death and the odds. They had had quite a run. As Ianto had said, "it was good."

Flipping the watch over again, Jack looked at its polished face. Ianto was gone, but certainly not forgotten. The memories were warm and welcome again, but they weren't a crutch as he thought of them. They were a thick blanket, able to provide comfort from the cold. He had Torchwood again, and Gwen and Andy. Somewhere in the Hub, Mel was about probably cursing his yelling but riding out the storm for her "Boss." They were there for him. Looking up, he could see concern evident in his friends.

"Is that dinner invitation still open," he asked Gwen. He laughed at the quizzical expression on her face. It took a moment for her to nod. He was done yelling. He was done focusing on an end. It was time for something else. "Good."

"What are you doing," Gwen asked as he pressed the knob at the top of the stopwatch.

Smiling, he looked at her. "Letting it run."