This is a sequel to LilFerret79's fic Skin Deep. I read her story, which ended a bit abruptly for me, and thought of a continuation.

Ianto was closing up shop. It was nearing half-eleven and he'd only just said goodbye to his last customer. Until he'd opened Ianto's Corner Coffee nearly five months ago, he'd had no idea that anyone other than the Torchwood team drank coffee so late at night. They were lucky he was devoted to the job.

He took one last wipe at the counter—Jack loved to tease him about being a perfectionist—and glanced out the window. He watched, rolling his eyes, as a couple of drunken chavs stumbled past, calling out to one another and generally making a ruckus. He looked down for just a moment to shake out the rag before glancing out the window again. A strangely familiar shaped loped past, obviously intent on the pair of inebriated teenagers not far away.

At first, the familiar hunting instinct took over, his muscles tensing, senses sharpening, focussed, his right hand automatically groping for nonexistent Weevil spray that months ago would have been perpetually hooked to his belt beside his gun, neither of which he owned any more. Then, fear overtook him. The memories of his last serious encounter with a Weevil, the phantom throb on the side of his face where the deep cut had healed over to nothing more than a thin pink line, the heart-pounding memory of Jack lying there on the cement with his throat ripped out. Finally, his Torchwood-ingrained protectiveness of ignorant humans kicked in and he looked around for any makeshift restraint units he could rustle up. Grabbing up an empty drawstring canvas bag that had once held coffee beans, he nabbed a length of rope and a piece of plumbing from the back room and raced after the trio. As he ran out of his store, he called Jack.

"Jack. Weevil. By the shop. Going after a couple of kids." He hung up and dropped the phone back in his pocket as he trotted after the creature.

He was shaking violently, fear and adrenaline and those awful memories jumbling around inside his brain. But his Torchwood instincts spurred him on, especially when a cry of surprise and fear rang out from a nearby ally. He raced into the ally, nearly freezing up when he saw the Weevil advancing on the two teens, growling. But he pushed past the fear and started forward, pipe raised. The Weevil was facing away from him, and Ianto brought the pipe back and swung. The metal arced and slammed into the Weevil's back and shoulder, catching it off guard. He swung again, clipping its jaw and ignoring the girl's scream. Somehow he managed not to fumble in his adrenaline-charged fight, and yanked the canvas coffee sack over the Weevil's head, tightening the drawstring.

"Run!" he commanded the couple. "Get out of here."

They did as they were told without hesitation. Ianto thudded the pipe across the Weevil's shoulders before slamming the unruly alien into the wall. With precise fingers, he looped the rope around its wrists twice and tied a tight knot. The Weevil shoved back, knocking the air from his lungs. Gasping for a proper breath, he watched as it stumbled blindly down the ally in the wrong direction, tripping over a pile of garbage bags and falling unthreateningly to the ground, writhing pathetically, snarling and growling as it managed to bury itself deeper into the mound of trash.

The sound a of a solitary person clapping echoed off the narrow walls and made Ianto jump fifteen feet in the air and whip his head around so fast it nearly fell off his shoulders.

"That was pretty impressive for half a year off the job."

"Jesus, Jack."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm all right." Ianto noticed the Torchwood SUV a few meters away. "Can you-can you take that?" He gestured with his head towards the Weevil. Jack nodded and whipped out a sedative. He subdued the alien and heaved it onto his shoulders, dumping it unceremoniously into the boot of the car. He turned back to Ianto who had followed him out and leaned against the side of the car.

"You sure you're okay?"

Ianto was shaking hard now, his hands clammy, adrenaline starting to recede. But he felt good. He wasn't sure if that was the thrill of the job or the elation of living through a Weevil attack. He didn't care to dwell on either option quite yet.

"I'm okay, I think."

"Sorry I didn't get here sooner. Another fucking Blowfish."

"It's okay." Ianto blew a puff of air. "I was barely even thinking. I just ran after it. Just…it was like muscle memory or something."

"Torchwood. The job that you can never leave and the job that never leaves you."

Ianto snorted to cover up his shakes. "You should make that your new slogan. And a free Captain's Choice coffee at Ianto's Corner Coffee with every Retcon."

"There's that dry sense of humour we all miss so much. Seriously. Gwen's jokes and Owen's sarcasm just don't cut it." He shut the back of the car and tossed the keys in the air before catching them again. "Come back to the Hub with me?"

"Jack…" Ianto wanted to protest, but he glanced at Jack's face and back at the Weevil in the boot. "Fine. Just let me lock up. I didn't exactly take the time to do that before saving a couple people's lives."

Jack followed Ianto, watching him like a hawk until they got into the SUV. Driving back to the Hub, Jack's hand found its way to Ianto's leg. The Welshman raised a brow, but Jack didn't seem to be moving forward with the gesture, so Ianto put his own hand on top of Jack's. They drove together in a comfortable silence that Ianto had finally gotten used to about three months ago.

When they reached the Hub, Jack turned to Ianto with a slight frown, mouth open like was going to say something, but then he seemed to think better of it and exhaled, turning away. Then he opened the door and got out. Ianto followed suit.

"Help me?" Jack requested as he opened the back of the car.

Ianto took the Weevil's legs as Jack took its upper body. Together they heaved it into the cells. Ianto followed Jack up to the main part of the Hub. No one else was there.

"I sent them home early. Will you wait for me? I've gotta finish some paperwork and then we can go home together."

Ianto nodded, watching as Jack bounded up the stairs to his office. He began to wander around, nostalgia creeping up the back of his spine, an ache spreading in his gut as he noticed the pile of books on Tosh's desk, the food wrappers and balled up papers littering Gwen's. His fingers itched to go down to the archives and check up on his unfinished work. He glanced over, noticing that his coffee machine was still there, obviously untouched. He stepped over and stroked it gently. He didn't even know why he loved it so much. There was just something special about this particular coffee machine, and he felt an affection for it above any affection he'd ever felt about an inanimate object.

"We don't use it." Jack was leaning against the doorway to his office, looking down at him. "Gwen's afraid she'll break it, Owen thinks coffee making is beneath him. And Tosh insists that it's 'yours.'"

"And you?"

"I agree with Tosh."

Ianto moved to sit on the couch beneath the Torchwood logo. He knew Jack wanted him to work for Torchwood still. He knew the rest of the team missed him. He thought back to the fear and worry that Jack's deaths had brought to him, the throb of the small pink scar on his face.

But then he thought of the last six months. He thought of the fear he felt every time Jack texted him with "Be home late. Alien to chase," or variations thereof. He thought of Jack's face when he'd come home after dying, eyes hollow and tired, only lighting up and looking relieved when he caught sight of Ianto. He thought of the times when Owen and Tosh and Gwen would show up in his shop, laughing and joking, talking about the job, and how he felt a pang of sadness, a strange wish to be part of that again. Finally he thought back to earlier tonight, the thrill he'd felt during and after his fight with the Weevil. He hadn't been scared, really. He'd felt a sort of elatedness, an energy, as he grappled with the alien. Maybe he had enjoyed it? He shook his head. But he had. A thrill had filled him, that old excitement of the chase, the reason he'd asked to be put into the field in the first place, besides being able to help save the world. Torchwood was something that got under your skin and never left. It became ingrained in the mind and body and now his skin tingled as he felt a longing to be back in the Hub, feeding Myfanwy or watching her fly around, bantering with Owen or talking to Tosh, hearing stories about the incidents in the field as the others filled out reports or worked, and most of all, being there for Jack, whenever he was needed.

"Ianto?" Jack was beside him.

"Jack, can I…Can I come back here and work part time? Just on call, or as a tea boy again? Nothing—nothing major. Not yet. No weevil chases or alien captures or whatever. And I still want to man my shop. Just…" He waved his hand around, the motion seeming to encompass everything that Torchwood and the Hub meant to him. "I miss this."

"I know. I could see it. We miss you. I miss you."

"I know I said that I'd feel I was letting the team down if I didn't go out in the field. But the way you talk, I feel like I'm letting them down more by not being here." He glanced around the Hub, gesturing towards Gwen's desk and Owen's workstation. "And obviously no one else around here has the sense to clean up."

Jack gave a small smile. "Tosh refused to put in your final logout in the mainframe. She was convinced you'd want to come back. Seems she was right. I can have her reinstate your code to all programs tomorrow."

"I want them to know that I won't be in the field. I don't know if I'll ever want to be. Maybe someday, but not yet. It's too early."

"All right. I'll call and tell them when we get home. You can come in with me tomorrow, if you like. But for now, let's go home."

Ianto had carefully picked out a suit, a dark grey one with subtle pinstripes. Jack had basically forced him into a red shirt and black and red tie. Ianto had relented and allowed the Captain to pick his outfit, because he knew how much Jack enjoyed him in red.

For some reason, he felt sort of nervous as he and Jack descended down the stony corridors from the Tourist Centre to the Hub. He took a deep breath as they waited for the cog door to roll open, smiling a little as Jack placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Ianto!" Gwen hopped out of her chair and ran over to hug him. Ianto rolled his eyes, he'd been expecting that reaction. He gave her a small hug back.

Tosh was smiling widely, but she waited until Ianto went over to her to hug her hello. He embraced her tightly, glad to see his friend again, and whispered in her ear, "You were right." She squeezed him tighter.

Owen clomped up from the autopsy bay, a teasing but affectionate smile on his face. "Ah, Ianto, thank god you're back, mate. I could murder a decent cup of coffee."

Ianto almost managed to hide his smile. "Yeah, well, you're getting yours last."

With a reassuring nod at Jack, he headed to his beloved coffee machine and his place as caretaker of the Hub. He already felt right, felt accepted and comfortable. This was good. This would work. Everything would be fine.