Disclaimer :

Love 'em to bits ….. but they're not mine.

.

.

.

.

o-o-o

Acceptance

o-o-o

It was easily the quietest night they'd experienced in ages. Alien-intrusion-free, it was gifting the whole team with that once in a blue moon opportunity to escape from what they would laughingly class as normality.

Giving sufficient notice, the Predictor had done its usual good job on the heads-up front, so armed with the bonus of knowing in advance exactly which evening to make their prior bookings for, Gwen, Tosh and Owen were already out there hitting the town.

In fact, as things stood, it was odds on that - if suddenly needed - the first of the trio would be found sitting in her favourite restaurant, most likely with her chin propped up on both palms, watching her fiancé finish off what was left of her not overly exciting serving of tiramisu.

The second of this fine band of Musketeers?

Well, if all had gone according to plan she would hopefully still be sitting primly on her velour covered, flap-down seat, getting ready to politely applaud at the final curtain of a certain local theatre production she'd been itching to see since the day it opened.

And, so, with two of them showing up with a reassuring beep on the radar, that would leave just one person to be accounted for.

Unsurprisingly, the third of this trio … (let's call him Aramis for arguments sake; after all, God knows he wore enough of the stuff during his teens) … with the first young lady insane enough to pay him any attention was, without one shadow of a doubt, ….. getting his end away.

.

.

.

Still in his suit and tie – and, as always, finding it incredibly hard to be anything other than 'Torchwood' - Ianto shifted awkwardly and heaved one huge internal sigh.

Unappreciative of being made to sit cross-legged on a concrete floor in the first place, he glanced down at his watch and quietly cursed his latest unsuccessful attempt at balancing on an alternate bum cheek for sixty seconds at a time.

Of course, if he'd known exactly what to expect tonight he could have brought their trusty stop-watch along for the ride, and in the process have guaranteed himself a little more accuracy with the timing of his bum-shuffling.

He forced out a loud and breathy nasal hiss of disbelief. The only night he'd had off in months …. and what was he doing with his time?

Bloody bum-shuffling!

He was quite sure there was an innuendo stuck somewhere within that sentence, but right now he was feeling neither the inspiration nor the inclination to think of one.

With the coldness of the ground slowly seeping into his flesh he was being reminded of a few of his late grandmother's words of wisdom - 'You mark my words, mab, …. sit on a cold floor like that and you'll end up with piles!'.

'Piles of what, Nan?' he'd always joked with her, each time earning himself a well-deserved clip round the ear.

He tensed as another shiver ran through him. The evening had managed to become un-seasonally chilly, and as his breath misted in front of his face, widening his eyes to peer through it, he cursed the Cardiff Rift for deciding to choose the clearest, and therefore the coldest, night of June to date, to take a break.

For a change of scenery, he decided to focus on the rear view of the figure stood roughly twelve feet ahead. Uncharacteristically, this prompted him to heave yet another silent sigh.

There, on a ledge, literally hundreds of feet up in the air, hands deep in his trouser pockets and legs holding firm at five-thirty-five (presumably to project the appropriate image, rather than just for balance purposes ), an undecided breeze was repeatedly sending the front flaps of Jack's coat first one way, and then the other.

Welsh goose-bumps began to ripple from top to toe, tingling as they appeared beneath the layers of thin clothing. Shivering again, this time with an overemphasised shudder, Ianto quickly tried to convince his brain that the blast of cold air currently shooting up the inside of one trouser leg wasn't really happening.

'It's lovely and warm' - he bluffed silently to himself whilst hoping, in turn, that he might also be able to convince his circulatory system of that very same fact.

Closing his eyes he tried to imagine a more inviting scene, a scene depicting something significantly distracting; like somewhere that might regularly find its-self registering at several degrees above freezing point on anybody's scale, for instance.

'Okaaaay … let's think of something positive …. Ohhh, yeah, I think I'll go with this one; this is much nicer than bloody Cardiff in June …. : Mmmmm … tropical climate, golden sun blazing away in an azure sky, a turquoise blue sea lapping quietly at the white sands of its shorelinemmmm. … Ohhh, yeah, you can forget Cardiff, this is much, much better.'

Shielding his eyes with an imaginary pair of Ray-Ban's, he pictured himself settling into a hammock. Then swinging gently to and fro on it; being lulled into a nice, warm and dozy sleep, he cleverly decided it might be an idea for him to visit this same place every time the hairs on his shins decided to stand on end.

.

.

.

'Ianto, it'll be great fun!' ….

He could still hear loud and clear, Jack's description of this particular pastime to him.

Of course, only a fool would think to argue with the power of hindsight, and right now he was realising that he, of all people, should've known better than to take the man; with it being that man specifically, at his word.

He'd twigged quite early on in their association, that Jack was an expert at pointing out just about everything other than the stuff that you really needed to know.

Take earlier on this evening for example. Slotted in amongst the enthusing, the blatant attempt at enticement and the boyish excitement, had Jack once revealed that the locating of a rooftop sat equidistant 'tween the ground and bloody stars would be vital if their evening were to be a complete success?

No.

Had he hinted that there'd be a biting breeze blowing during their time spent half-way to the heavens?

No.

And what of the small, yet very significant, fact that the chances of at least one of them ending up with an incredibly numb arse, was almost guaranteed?

Nope. Not one solitary peep.

And someone was going to have severe words with a certain Captain regarding that particular oversight a little later.

Still, if pushed for the truth he'd admit in a heartbeat that none of those petty gripes were really that much of an issue for him. Jack, for all his quirky rhyme and reason moments, was, at this very moment, exactly where he needed to be.

And that, for one particular humbled citizen of Cardiff, at least, was quite simply, all that would ever matter.

.

.

Silently facing away from the building, Jack's unannounced need for a few moments of privacy meant that he'd so far managed to keep not only his face, but also his feelings, carefully hidden from view.

Not that this was making the slightest jot of difference to the man sat a short distance behind him, of course. Even with his features unreadable, the less controllable waves of grief emanating from Jack were revealing more to a sensitive Ianto Jones than any sad expression ever could.

It was just frustrating to know that there was nothing he could do, other than sit around on his cold backside and feel completely and utterly useless.

"Bored yet?"

As it floated back with the aid of one noisy gust of wind, the almost amused query succeeded in dragging Ianto from the depths of his sympathy filled stupor. With imperceptible movements, he gave his brain a quick 'wake up' shake and, aware that Jack was once more turned toward him, the first thing to catch his attention was that larger than life smile.

Bored yet? … Sorry, had Jack just asked him if he was ….. …. bored yet?

He was tempted to respond with one of his infamous, off the cuff sarcastic retorts, maybe something along the lines of : his current show of apathy being everything to do with the company he'd been keeping of late.

But even when it was on show, the Captain's smile meant absolutely nothing. That wide beam was quite often relied upon to disguise a multitude of emotions, and aware more than most of this fact, Ianto also knew better that to take a chance on playing with whatever Jack's current mood might really be.

Before he could think of a safe comeback, with Jack holding his arms out to the side, heavily suggesting that he was about to fly, Ianto watched on with all the disconcerted feelings of a despairing parent and a second later the kid in his boss jumped from his perch with an overstated leap then began to make his way over.

As he continued to watch and wait, the neat and tidy part of Ianto's brain made a mental note of the fact that, not for the first time in recent weeks, Jack seemed to be allowing his smile to linger purely for his benefit. It was almost as if, with some immortal power, the great Captain Harkness was able to read exactly what was on his lowly archivist's mind.

Actually, whether the truth was blatantly on show or not, Ianto had to admit that there was nothing he loved to see more, than Jack's smile. It had actually made it onto his ridiculously short - 'short-list' - of the most beautiful things known to mankind.

That was a highly embarrassing admission to make, not to mention incredibly sad, he knew that. But no matter how many harsh words he'd had with himself over recent months, it seemed that ever since Jack had shown his face again, this stoical, rational thinking, sensible member of society, had been slowly reduced to nothing but a self-control-lacking, puddle of sentimental slush.

He'd even cried over the man. On several occasions, in fact, whilst he was awol.

Not that he'd let on to the vain git about any of this, of course. Without really meaning to, the fool could be insufferably smug at times. Plus there was only so much that any archivist could take, when forced to share the same sector of airspace as the Jack Harkness Self-Appreciation Society.

.

.

.

Through the haze of his rambling, Ianto remained vaguely aware of where he was. The tempting lips, those teeth ….. and that sinful mouth, of course, they were all there right in front of him. And unable to do anything to prevent it, still hypnotised by the smile, Ianto found himself becoming even further distanced from reality.

Before he knew it, he was off on another of those distracting journeys of his, the sort that inevitably ended up with him tripping down a memory lane littered with unsettling explanations for why he'd managed to become so overwhelmed by his boss … and, of course, by that damned smile of his.

He could still picture the both of them now down in the archives - the very moment he'd first noticed that damned smile. Jack had been showing him around on his first day, joking constantly as he pointed out a carefully pre-planted selection of suggestively named artefacts. Even at that early stage the man had been hell bent on sending a string of innuendos his way.

Of course, finding that he was genuinely attracted to his boss had been merely the first of many obstacles : The added moments of doubt and inner turmoil, in all honesty, hadn't been entirely unexpected but, even so, he'd still found them a very unpleasant experience to deal with. Plus on occasions, and leaving him with only just enough time to make it from sight, sudden waves of nausea had actually managed to take the win, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth for more than one reason.

And all the time …. there was Jack …. smiling away ….. and dragging him further in.

At that earliest point, Lisa had still been foremost in his mind. Which was why he'd found himself struggling on a daily basis to comprehend why it was so easy for him to become so distracted. Frequently he'd thought to allay his guilty feelings by blaming Jack, whilst wishing at the same time that the man didn't have to be quite so … ridiculously handsome.

That single fact alone had succeeded in making his life more than a challenge. Back then, when the physical (although pleasurable) had been nothing but premeditated, not being hopelessly attracted to Jack would have made things so much easier. So much less ….. complicated.

He didn't feel that way now, of course. Lisa, the real Lisa, was gone. He'd managed to let go of most of those initial feelings of guilt, and with Jack's help had come to terms with the actual truth of what was happening to her back then. At the time he'd been convinced he was doing the right thing by her. But he was now prepared to accept that he'd been completely blindsided by the strength of his love for her.

In terms of months, weeks and days, it still hadn't been that long since he'd started to appreciate life for what it really meant. But every day, and again with Jack's help, he was coming to understand a little more of why he'd reacted in the way he had.

In fact, without another soul knowing, Jack's care and concern behind the scenes was constantly helping him to move on.

.

.

.

A throat was cleared.

Feeling self-conscious now, for so many reasons, very slowly, Ianto lifted his head to find Jack joining him on the ground - dropping cross-legged on to the spot directly in front of him.

"You're in a little world all of your own over here, aren't you, Mr Jones?" Jack chuckled, not letting on in any way at how much of a bad place emotionally he'd just been in himself. "And I have to say, Ianto, this simple fact is only convincing me more and more that my initial observation about you was spot on."

His relaxed posture mirroring the fact that he'd already accepted the failure of his surprise treat, Jack's softening tone was in no way judgemental. "Come on, you can be truthful with me, Ianto ….. just admit it; you're bored of this already, yeah?"

There was no need to think about it.

"I am a bit, yeah."

Slipping out of its own volition, with apparently no consideration for the dire consequences it might incur, the aftershocks of the condemning revelation hadn't felt half as painful for Ianto as he'd been expecting them to.

And, of course, never fear …. in his own exuberant 'never say no' manner, and with the ideal solution already to hand …. Jack was most definitely on the ball.

"Hey, I know; why don't you just get up there and try it for yourself?" he tried, looking back over one shoulder as he did, then with a nod, gestured that Ianto might care more for the lofty view of Cardiff when observed from his all-time favourite vantage point.

"Seriously, Ianto." he enthused, looking back with a genuine grin forming. "I can personally guarantee the experience. It's definitely much more interesting once you're up there."

"Vertigo."

Was the only 'get himself off the hook' explanation that Ianto could come up with on the quick.

An inbuilt survival instinct, that he'd, 'til now, refused to acknowledge in the line of duty, had kicked in to insist that under no circumstances was he to do anything so ridiculously dangerous …. and stupid.

He wanted to go fight potentially lethal, alien opponents, did he? Yes, said his brain, go ahead, not a problem.

But throw himself off of the tallest building in Cardiff? No way! … Taking himself out of life's equation was most definitely not on his current list of the things he'd most like to try.

It was alright for Jack, he'd …..

No, okay, it wasn't alright for Jack. Dying for whatever reason could never be classed as fun. But at the same time, there was no getting away from the fact that: give him half-hour, and you'd barely be able to pick out the spot where the impact with the pavement had seen a section of Jack's skull come adrift.

.

.

"Oh, yeah?" Obviously not convinced by Ianto's claim, Jack was already rocking backward, a challenging stare in place.

Propping himself up from behind, with his fingers splaying out for extra balance, he began to frown in Ianto's direction.

Like a rabbit caught in immortalised headlights, and hypnotised this time by the accusing stare, Ianto swallowed deep within his throat. "Um, yeah, ….. vertigo." he confirmed, bluffing on. "I'm quite sure I mentioned it to both you and Owen when I first signed up in Cardiff."

A moment of hesitation on both fronts appeared only to double in duration, then triple. And as time ticked on, the pocket of air sat between the two men was threatening to become a battleground.

Ianto was half expecting Jack to roll out the … 'Just us - in this room - for as long as it takes' …. speech again.

Jack, himself, for the time being, seemed quite happy to remain as he was; slouched back, hands still propping him up, whilst he just stared, unblinking.

"Nope," he finally decided, shaking his head in an accusing fashion. "Sorry, but I can't say I remember that moment at all. But, hey, you know what, Ianto? You probably did tell me. I must've logged it away with the hundreds of other questionable explanations you've fed me over the past coupla years."

Pushing himself forward into an upright position, hoping to break the ice-man opposite and suggesting he was far from happy, Jack narrowed his eyes as he continued to stare.

"Have you any idea how difficult it can be, tryin' to understand a guy like you, Ianto?" Jack hunched his shoulder for extra emphasis. "'Cause trying to decide if you're being serious with me or not, is practically nigh on impossible."

The news coming as something of a surprising victory, a delighted, almost gloating, Welsh smile began to appear.

Once more, Jack squinted accusingly.

And Ianto called time on his already short-lived, grin of success.

Actually, no longer able to hold eye-contact, and hastily dropping his latest blush from view, Ianto had to admit that Jack's comment had been a fair one; it certainly wasn't beyond him to fight boredom with the dispensing of the odd cryptic comment or two. With him, as their resident barista, being not only the youngest, but also the quietest out of them all, it had always been embarrassingly easy for him to take the rest of the team by surprise.

His one liner's were a prime example. At least twice a week he'd throw one of his classics into the mix for them to mull over before going back to his work, then watch with mask in place, while they stood there looking perplexed at each other; wondering had he been serious this time, or had this been him taking the piss out of them all over again.

Sometimes he'd leave them hanging for days before dropping subtle hints that, yes, he'd been taking the rise out of them ….. as per usual.

.

.

"So. Vertigo, yeah? Would you believe I don't suffer from it much, myself?" shared Jack, his sing-song tones incising a determined path through some thick, yet admittedly endearing, cranial plates.

Laughing inwardly, amused by the sudden announcement, Ianto raised his head to reveal his over accentuated gawped expression.

"You don't say!" he gasped, sitting there shaking his head in mock disbelief.

With Jack chuckling away, apparently appreciating this latest attempt, of his, at sarcasm, Ianto grunted as a much colder blast of air began to whirl its way around the roof space.

Buffeting his clothing on its way past, it saw him shivering visibly, and using the fingers of both hands he clenched the edges of his suit jacket tightly together. Once the look was perfected, his final move was to give a deliberately noisy shudder in the hope that Jack might take the not so subtle hint.

"Okay, see, now I'm startin' to guess that this definitely isn't your kinda thing." Jack grinned admonishingly. "You know, Ianto, if you really didn't wanna come with me tonight you shoulda just said somethin'. I wouldn't've minded." he added, failing to disguise how disappointed he was truly feeling.

Only a few times in his life had a guilt ridden Ianto Jones considered himself to be a complete and utter bastard. Tonight was quickly becoming another one of those times. Before even setting one foot outside the Tourist Office doorway, it had already occurred to him how big a deal tonight was going to be for Jack. But there was no getting away from the fact that that very same Ianto Jones, by anyone's standards, was not good on roofs.

Problem was, how was he supposed to concur Jack's feelings about his own without seeming unappreciative?

Of course, the idea of being four hundred feet up in the air, especially in weather like this, hadn't appealed in the slightest. But … 'being with Jack' ….. was … well ….. 'being with Jack' - wherever that happened to be.

And in the simplest of terms ….. all he really seemed to want right now, was to be with Jack …. ….. end of.

Two hours ago, the fool could've said 'Hey, Ianto, howd'ya fancy joining me for a spot of naked bathing up at the North Pole?' … and he'd have been there by Jack's side, packed and ready to go, in a split second; obligatory magnifying glass in one hand to make the obvious seem bigger, plus a thermos of coffee in his other, to warm the coldest of cockles.

"Actually, Ianto," Jack was off again, even without having received a reply. "You might wanna scrap the last part of that sentence. 'Cause that part about me not minding? Well, that was actually a bit of a lie." Looking for all the world as if he thought his comfort zone might be drifting further and further in the wrong direction, peering down at them Jack began to pick at what was left of his already damaged cuticles. "'You see, if you'd said you didn't wanna come with me tonight?" he forced out in continuing, "Honestly? I would've minded …. In fact ….. I would've minded a lot."

Head bowed, but eyes peering upward, it was no great secret that he was trying to get a feel for how Ianto was reacting to his admission. What he actually found was a young man looking totally perplexed.

Pretending he hadn't noticed he carried on regardless. "In fact, even if it meant you sitting around on your butt in total silence for however long, I know that I'd still want you with me, 'cause," he paused for a dramatic sigh break. "Well ….." this time he forced a noisy breath through his lips, causing them to vibrate, comically.

"Oh, I don't know," he eventually sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say, is …. well …. I like knowing you're never far away. 'Cause …. in a way, I guess I need you, Ianto."

And there it was; the reason he'd been looking for.

"Hey, that's it!" he proclaimed, his features brightening as he suddenly saw the light. "I guess I kinda need you with me - I don't feel so … lost ….. when you're around."

Without hesitation, a laugh filled the airwaves. Unfortunately for Jack, it had just choked its way out from the very back of Ianto's throat.

"You don't feel so 'lost' when I'm around?"

A little hesitantly, Jack nodded.

"Well, thanks for that, Jack." Ianto told him, thinking to tag a non-condemning chuckle on to the end of the line to soften the blow. "I'm deeply honoured to know you rate me on a par with a sodding sat nav."

Managing to see the funny side of Jack's remark and, in turn, his own reply to it, Ianto's, from the bottom of his lungs, burst of laughter was worthy of any true Welshman.

On the pseudo American face directly opposite him, an offended look began to register. Within seconds it was at the 'if you wanna live -run for your life' stage.

"I didn't mean it like that …." Jack managed to snap out before being cut short by Ianto and another of his observations.

"But I suppose it's reassuring to know for sure," he was sighing, whilst unwittingly taking the typhoon from Jack's sails. "That, you actually do value me for more than just my coffee making skills after all."

Looking across at Jack, there was a twinkle forming in Ianto's eye. The hint of sarcasm was still sitting there also….. plus the cheeky tease in his voice had been evident from the start.

But Jack had managed to miss it all by a mile ….. and much to Ianto's dismay, his boss began to react unfavourably.

Which was strange, because, it had to be said; since his 'return', there'd been a sizeable change in Jack's demeanour. They'd all noticed it, right from day one - how he'd stood back, watching on uncertainly, allowing Gwen to call the shots that he would normally would have instigated. He'd let them all rally on around him, whilst saving all of his bravado moments for that irritating ex-partner of his.

In truth, they'd all just been chancing their luck; trying it on because they were all so angry with him. It'd been taken for granted that within a day or two he'd be back to normal. But that hadn't happened. The swagger, although still very much in play, was less convincing in its manner. The references to the good times enjoyed on other worlds seemed to be in very short supply, and the lewd one-liners were also noticeable by their absence. On some days it was almost as if Jack had forgotten what an innuendo was.

The other major factor had been Jack's ongoing show of hesitancy when it came to issuing a command. It was as if behind the orders, underneath the words, he was continually wondering where his place, now, really did lie within Torchwood. At times you could sense that he was feeling somewhat redundant around the Hub - not relied upon quite so much.

Plus he very rarely raised his voice in anger anymore. It hadn't escaped the team's attention that, rather than instigate a confrontation with any of them, he'd rather just walk away until a situation had calmed; as if frightened that him saying the wrong thing ….. or saying the right thing in the wrong way, might mean him alienating himself even more.

Which was why it was so disconcerting for Ianto to know that, right at this very moment, Jack was just about ready to bust a gut. His eyes were steeled; dagger-like, ready to pierce and attack. His face, features already pinched, was reddening - filling with an incensed anger that none of them had seen for months.

But for the life of him the young Welshman couldn't work out why. There was no obvious reason why his off the cuff remark should've infuriated Jack to such an extent. He'd thought it was fairly funny, himself.

"Don't you dare say that about me, Ianto!"

Frustration boiling over, as Jack peered across in master to pupil fashion, the cleft chin was lifted suitably higher. "Ianto, I have never ….. not for one second ….. thought of you in those terms. In fact, you could make the worst pot of coffee in the entire goddamned Universe ….. and I'd 'still' want your company! Okay!"

As the unexpected, and largely unwarranted, American growl subsided there followed an awkward period of silence, during which Ianto Jones managed to turn the colour of his favourite shirt. The one which he just happened to be wearing tonight … because he knew it was Jack's favourite, also.

Over in the blue corner, and back definitely up, Jack seemed to be finding it hard to let go.

"What the hell did I do to deserve such a low swipe?" he ranted, going mercilessly once more for the throat. "I appreciate you for many reasons, Ianto. And just the other week, I even asked you out on a date, remember?"

Well that rankled a little.

"You mean that same date that we still haven't been on, Jack?" Ianto quickly countered, the reminder of the fact seeing him regain his composure very quickly. "And as it happens, it's something that we could've been doing right now … as opposed to getting bastard piles." he found himself snapping back in a below the waist effort. How things had managed to go down-hill, so very quickly, was beyond him.

"What!"

Failing to find anything remotely relevant about that last statement, Jack was becoming only more and more annoyed.

"As opposed to getting piles? Ianto … what the hell has that got to do with anything?"

He sniffed in a deep lungful of air. The attempt at calming his self was marginally successful.

"Ianto, trust me," he reassured in a more controlled fashion. "Arrangements for our first 'proper' date are all in hand. I've just been waitin' on the right moment, that's ….…."

"What was wrong with this moment?"

Appalled at how quickly the man opposite could reduce him to such a petulant state, Ianto stubbornly carried on, allowing Jack one of his disgruntled huffs, just to let him know he still wasn't impressed, not one little bit, with his efforts to date. "Gwen's in a restaurant." he said testily, managing to sound humiliatingly childish for a second time. "In a restaurant … on a date. Having dinner ….. on that date. ... In that new Italian, actually, Jack. The place looks quite nice ...…. from what I've managed to see of it from the outside."

A sideways glance was aimed in Jack's direction.

"You didn't even notice that it'd changed hands, did you? Anyway, you'll be pleased to know that the food smells really nice … ... from the outside, of course …. as opposed to sitting inside ….. at a table eating it ….. on a date."

"Okay, Ianto, fine! You got it! We'll do Italian, okay? But just remember one of us has the rift to take responsibility for." Jack snapped, the guilt he suddenly found sitting squarely back on his shoulders getting to him in a big way.

He noticed a small smirk beginning to form on his future dinner date's lips.

Up to this point, he'd considered himself to have been more than gracious – he'd allowed Ianto his few moments of sarcastic low blows –had chosen to leave his own bobbing and weaving talents for another day. But he'd be damned if he was going to let the Welsh representative in the ring take the round.

"Oh, and in future?" he snarled, determined to cut Ianto straight back down to size, "It'd be nice if you could show just a little more faith in how I feel about you!"

With Ianto still licking his wounds and desperately trying to assimilate the three words 'feel about you', Jack's lecturing tones were off again.

"And for the record ….. Yes, I'm not denying that you do make a damn fine cup of coffee. But take it from me, Ianto Jones ….. that is 'not' all that you are appreciated for!"

Ianto stopped licking. "I ….."

Something snapped again.

"Ianto, if all I was interested in was your damned coffee you'd be out the door, same time every night, with the rest of 'em! If all I cared about were your skills with an espresso maker, I'd be spending my evenings down on those streets below, cruising to get what I need to keep things real - not lying on my bunk holding you."

"I …."

"You, what, Ianto? …. Come on! ….. You, what!"

"I …. don't know what to say."

"Who said you 'needed' to say anything?" Jack came back with, his hushed abruptness confusing the young man even more. "Just tell me, Ianto …. do you believe everything I've just told you, yes or no?"

"I ….."

"Do you believe me! … Yes or no!"

"Yes!"

Shoulders relaxing, Jack's expression immediately softened. "Thank you, that' all I needed to hear. Now, I want no more stupid comments about how little you think you're valued …. okay?"

Lips drawing inward; consciously trying to look as chastised as he possibly could for Jack's benefit, Ianto gave a nod. "Okay, no more stupid comments." he agreed; thinking to add, "And, Jack, I'm sorry." for good measure.

A dismissive hand was waved through the air at him. Jack, it seemed, was all talked out, and staring down at the triangular shaped well being created by his crossed limbs, he began to toy aimlessly with one loose, greatcoat button.

"I think that might need fixing." observed Ianto, hoping to lighten the mood even further.

"It's not the only thing." Jack informed him cryptically, seemingly not feeling the inclination to lift his head or share his companion's gaze.

As another quiet moment lingered, eventually, just like the last one, becoming painfully awkward, Ianto concluded that he much preferred the rowing.

Finally, Jack chose to lift his face, offering Ianto a small, almost humbled, shake of his head. "No, Ianto, no need to say you're sorry; no apologies from you," he said with a warm smile. "This misunderstanding wasn't totally your fault, and, being honest, I think I may have over-reacted a little, back there."

Slipping back into the same guise of late, and looking far from authoritative, he began to chew on his lower lip; his shoulders hunching high as they formed a resigned shrug. "Just felt like getting' somethin' off my chest, I guess." he said, now sounding nothing but remorseful.

"Well you certainly did that." Ianto told him, quick as a flash. Then he started to laugh again.

Instead of taking offence, this time Jack forced a smile too. But knowing this Jack of late, Ianto could sense a deeper level of concern going on.

With his boss dragging a hand over one tired eye, Ianto knew his conscience wouldn't allow him to let Jack take all the blame for the recent shift in atmosphere.

"You were right about me, by the way," he revealed, hoping his admission might even up the score - help to get them back on track. "I 'have' always doubted how you view me. But I think I'm as much to blame for the misunderstanding as you are. I mean, you think you struggle to understand me? Sometimes I confuse even myself! Admittedly there are brief moments when I think I understand what's happening here, but they don't last for very long."

He studied the concerned look on Jack's face.

"You didn't realise, did you?" he laughed softly. "Just because I get on with life, share a joke with you; share your bed … you assume that I must be okay with things. Well, it's very easy, Jack, to bluff your way through a situation. Especially when the other person involved only sees what they want to."

Jack stayed quiet; the vacant look on his face suggesting that he was taking the time to process all that he was hearing.

"It's no one's fault specifically," Ianto assured him, "And the fact that I've never wanted to discuss this with you before, doesn't mean that I've never wanted you to understand. By the same token, it doesn't mean that I've been happy in being this way, either."

Still Jack was quiet.

Ianto ploughed on.

"You see, when a situation isn't too extreme, it's very easy for someone like me to pretend that the problem doesn't exist at all. I guess it's much easier to hope that it's going to go away forever, rather than have to deal with it."

At last there was a reaction. "But, Ianto, listen to me, that's not good. That's when misunderstandings start to happen."

Ianto nodded his agreement. "So what would you suggest our answer is?"

"Talk to me, Ianto. If you need to talk, I'm here."

"And what are you proposing to say to me, Jack? Praise my skills with an 'espresso maker', maybe? Drop a hint that you want me to top for a change? Suggest a Weevil hunt when the others are working late? That's your idea of talking, Jack."

"Ianto, that's not fair."

"Isn't it? Not all that long ago, I seem to remember asking you what you knew about me. You never did take the hint, did you, Jack? Nothing's really changed. We're still practically strangers …. and I still clean up your shit, no questions asked."

All Jack could do was sit there. Solemn, silent and open-mouthed.

"Don't misunderstand me, mind," Ianto carried on, dipping his head, angling it slightly, trying to keep sight of Jack's gaze as he made to look away. "I don't blame you at all for wanting to call me out on that remark I made a little while back. It's plain enough for even me to see, that, with my insecurities playing a large part in anything I do or say, I'm just as much responsible for this mix up as you ….. with your cards to your chest and flighty ways ….. are."

Jack winced.

"Ouch. I guess I deserved that." was all he could think of saying, but it was obvious from his mannerism that he was starting to agree with the mostly critical appraisal of himself.

A moment of acceptance saw them this time choose to sit there quietly for a while – both mulling and dwelling - appreciating that they each had more than their fair share of short-comings to consider.

"Is there anything I can say or do that might help you get over how you deal with things?" wondered Jack; his subdued voice being the one to finally break the silence.

"Not really, but I appreciate the offer." Ianto responded with a wistful 'well, I guess it's better late than never' smile forming.

His shoulders sagging; the weight of the world as their company, Jack looked defeated as he cautiously reached out, hesitating for no more than a second before instinctively grasping hold of Ianto's hand. "Are you quite sure?" he asked gently.

As he subconsciously began to brush his thumb to and fro, it was clear to the young man that Jack didn't realise he was doing it, and somehow that made the action seem just that little bit more special.

With regards to Jack's query, however, all Ianto could offer in response was shake his head. If the Captain were to realise exactly how many issues were relating to him alone, then he might not have been so forthcoming with his offer of assistance.

"At this moment in time I'm not sure anyone can help me," Ianto said honestly. "Plus now that someone else …. sorry," he corrected. "Now that you are aware of its existence, Sir, I'm certain that my lack of confidence will cease to be a problem very soon."

"Well, firstly …. it's Jack now, remember? I thought we'd agreed that the day I got back? And secondly, I'm really not happy with leaving you to deal with this on your own."

The eyes rolled. "Jack, seriously. I'm positive I'll be able to get over this. "

Shaking his head at him, Ianto remained convinced that Jack Harkness was easily the most frustrating person he'd ever known. Regardless of how needed it might be, the man would always leave that offer of a 'time to show another side to him' chat, until it became the last possible avenue for him to go down.

Saving the world ….. …. whilst saving the deep and meaningful until last.

And better late than never …

That was Jack Harkness for you in a nutshell.

"In fact," Ianto added quickly, bravely deciding to get around to something that'd genuinely been playing on his mind for the last few weeks. "How about, for now, you just allow me to help you instead?"

Bypassing the instant look of surprise, he made a point of carrying on before Jack could muster the wherewithal to stop him. "Are we going to ignore the violent nightmares forever, Jack?" he frowned, doing his utmost to come across as merely concerned, nothing more. "Are we just going to carry on pretending that they're not happening on a regular basis?"

Forcing out a heavy sigh at the show of stubborn silence, Ianto paused before continuing. "You think it skips my notice that, by morning, I'm sharing sweat soaked bedding?"

He saw the delighted spark appear in Jack's eyes. Even at a moment like this he couldn't resist.

"Don't, Jack," he threw at him, disappointed, "Don't cheapen this with one of your lines." then he watched on, satisfied, as the slapped cheek look appeared. "You know, even the nights when I don't stop over, I can still tell by your mannerism the following morning that you've been having a rough time of it."

With Jack looking away again, Ianto smiled to himself - had the Captain still not cottoned on that doing so was an instant admission of guilt?

"And while we're at it, are you ever going to share why Hart was taunting you with the name Gray before he disappeared?" he braved, determined to carry on now that he'd started. "I don't know what anyone else saw in your eyes up on that roof, Jack, but what I saw was an eternities worth of pain trying to break through. And no matter how clever you think you are at hiding things, that same show of pain has been with you ever since."

With his boss still obstinately staring over to the perimeter safety wall, as if he'd never seen one in his life before, Ianto willed Jack to turn back in his direction.

"So, yes," he eventually sighed, frustrated that nothing had changed and that he was still addressing the side of Jack's head. "I do appreciate the fact that, right now, you're offering to help 'me' …. But I'm not sure things should be so one sided."

Closing his eyes he forced himself to bring the last of his thoughts out into the open. "I'm not the only one struggling to deal with unresolved issues, am I, Jack?"

Unsure of what reaction to expect, lifting his lids with an upward snap, he found that Jack was now staring straight at him.

He held his breath …. and waited.

The silence continued, and finding his gaze locked firmly into place by Jack's own, Ianto began to feel stifled by the moment. He was slowly choking on the ball of nerves stuck fast in his gullet, plus the stench of Jack's guilt was slowly overpowering him.

He looked into Jack's eyes - properly looked into them - and there he saw an immortal laid bare for the very first time. Layer upon layer began to unfold before him, revealing a world of pain; a history filled with shame and regret.

The man was locked inside a living hell, unable to share any of its horror with a single other living soul.

Ianto began to fold in on himself.

Small ….. and completely useless.

Finally he was beginning to see the significance of his true self, as a human being. In relation to Jack he was a speck, an atom that bore little or no relevance to the ongoing history of the Universe. He had no power; no real say in what might happen, and as much as it hurt to admit it, he was going to be of no use to Captain Jack Harkness whatsoever.

Ianto Jones straightened 'til he was tall and proud.

So, that was what the Fates had decided for him, was it?

Well, bollocks to that! He was Ianto Jones, he'd learned to survive on his own, he'd seen his world ripped apart by Cybernetic monsters and fought with extra-terrestrials.

Bottom line? He didn't care what hand he'd been dealt. He had a Celtic heart the size of Wales and he was gonna help this man if it was the last thing he ever fucking got to do.

Aware that Jack was watching on with growing curiosity, Ianto left his battleground behind.

"You do know we're grateful that you chose to come back to us, don't you Jack?" he managed to say quietly, despite the fire inside. "But I don't want to lie to you, and if I said you'd returned to us as the same person, I would be."

Still making an effort to quell his raging emotions, he paused for a quick breath then carried on. "I don't know what happened while you were away, Jack. But it was something bad, I can see that now."

Looking away, Jack's gaze found the stars, almost convincing Ianto that he'd already said too much. But squeezing his eyes shut and with a quick shake of his head, Jack was back, and this time his stare had softened, was more forgiving than Ianto had ever seen it.

"Perhaps we're both missing out on an opportunity here, Sir." he said quietly. "Sharing's never easy for you at the best of times, I know that, but this doesn't make any sense – I mean, if there's a chance that we could help each other, even if it's to just listen and nod, why the hell aren't we already doing it?"

Seemingly with no great desire to run away from the topic, Jack had, instead, become thoughtful. From the forgiving look in his eyes, it was clear that he hadn't been offended by Ianto's observations in any way.

A few, less anxious, moments passed between them, at the end of which Jack smiled sadly at Ianto before deciding to concentrate, once again, on his crossed legs.

The younger man, still not convinced that he hadn't uncharacteristically pushed too far, watched closely; hoping to pick up on some signs of positive body language from Jack.

"Are you okay?" he chanced, hoping he hadn't hit too many raw nerves.

Lifting his face and smiling wistfully, Jack nodded for him.

Ianto nudged their knees together then sent Jack his most bashful smile. "Is it okay for me to carry on then?" he braved.

"What is it you wanna know?" Jack shrugged, his lips pursing, as if to suggest …. well, you can ask all you like ….. but you might not get.

"I want to get onto the subject of Hart …" Ianto told him before he could lose his nerve.

"Oh?" was all Jack was prepared to share for now.

Ianto swallowed, then went for it. "I know up in that office, you said you wanted him gone, but I couldn't help but notice …"

"Couldn't help notice what?" the tone was gradually changing for the worse.

"That, oh, I don't know." Ianto sighed. "You seemed to enjoy having him around."

"Care to explain that statement?" wondered Jack, one brow lifting.

The pain of recollection creasing his features, Ianto looked away. As he sat there staring at the concrete canvas in front of him, you could see he was trying to make sense of something he'd once found to be very unpleasant.

"The easy way you were interacting with him in Bar Reunion, you know, sending him one jibe after another – like you were hoping, each time, you'd get another back from him to keep the conversation flowing. I could sense you were enjoying the moment. And through it all I couldn't help but think that a part of you was hoping he might stick around."

His smile already reflective, Jack laughed softly to himself. "I won't insult your intelligence by pretending that maybe a small part of me wasn't pleased to see him." he hushed, detracting from the weight of the admission by playing with his buttons again. "But I've been away from everything I knew; away from a life that I'd assumed was all I was ever gonna know, for over a hundred years now. And seeing him again like that, it was like a life-line back to who I was back then, when I actually had a reason for just 'being'."

Ianto tried to stop himself, but there was one answer he needed more than any other. "Would you have slept with him, if he'd asked?"

His eyes closed in preparation to block out the expected response.

"Does he have a pulse?"

Joked Jack before correcting, "Actually, no, I wouldn't have given the son of a bitch the satisfaction. He's always assumed that I'd sleep with him at the drop of a hat. In fact, I kinda wish now that he'd actually given me the opportunity to tell him no."

"But you did like him being here … didn't you."

"It's tough, sometimes, you know?" Jack sighed. "Feeling constantly that you're on your own with things. That even though you're in a world full of people, sometimes there's just no one there to talk to."

This time it was Ianto who reached out with the offer of a comforting hand. Jack accepted the cooling fingers and squeezed them with his own.

"Ianto ….. I get so lonely." He whispered, his voice catching at the back of his throat. "You know the old cliché, don't you?" he laughed. "Room full of people, etcetera, etcetera?"

Ianto couldn't find it in himself to smile back. "I won't presume to be the answer to every single one of your problems, Jack." he said firmly. "But you just tell me when and where ….. and I'll be there in a flash. You know, mug in hand, ear at the ready; waiting to be bent."

As he stared at Ianto, still amazed at how loyal he was proving to be, Jack's expression became only more thoughtful.

"You're a good man, Ianto Jones." He announced with a nod.

"Hmmm. You wouldn't have been saying that about me a while back, I know." Ianto told him looking noticeably flustered; the compliment taking him by surprise.

Leaning back, Jack had one of his all-knowing smiles forming. "I take it you're referring to my feeling it necessary to suspend you?" he noted.

"Yup." was the only response Ianto felt comfortable with.

"Ianto, even the best of us can make a bad call." Jack reminded him, adding, "Especially when love forms part of the equation. And, anyway, I've always thought of you as a good man. You have a good heart, Ianto Jones, and that's what counts the most." He finally decided.

"Oh, um, thanks, Jack, you too." Were the very words that left Ianto's mouth, and cringing inwardly the instant the sentence was over, he waited for Jack to ridicule, at the very least, the pink tinge spreading from cheek to collar-bone.

What Jack actually chose to do, was take this moment to study their unconventional surroundings, and sensing his boss was actually starting to relax a little, Ianto watched on, fascinated by Jack's continuing change of expression.

As they wandered up, down and around, Ianto followed the path of the piercing blue eyes taking themselves on a tour of the grey, and still depressingly bland, scenery. There was a feverish excitement about the way they darted from one spot to another, almost as if Jack was in a rush to locate something important; hoping to gain a sudden wave of inspiration from the square concrete housings to the side of him, or the extractor fans spinning within them.

Distracting them both, a new sound caught their attention.

Being not properly latched in the first place, and having been sucked outward by the ever strengthening breeze, the door to the stairwell was now swinging to and fro on its hinges.

All at once Jack seemed animated, enlightened; inspired even, as if the prompt he'd been searching for had miraculously just been found.

"You know, I'm glad I have you by my side to keep me company, Ianto, because my ultimate escape route has been blocked," he announced rather cryptically before embellishing with an even more curious. "The door to my way out of this place has been slammed shut ... by the only key-holder;"

With Ianto watching on bemused, and with a loud sigh Jack continued to gaze over at the swinging portal. "Locked, then double-locked, by the only person that could ever really have helped me."

Freezing solid at Jack's words, Ianto's breath caught painfully in his chest. "So what are you saying?" he rushed out, forcing himself to speak through the pain in his lungs. "That despite everything you've been telling the rest of us since you came back, in truth, all you're looking to do is leave us again? To get away from here?"

"No! Not from here." Jack corrected abruptly. "Or from you." was added hurriedly in hindsight. "I meant from my situation, Ianto. From myself, that's all; from this person that over so many years, it seems I've finally managed to become."

"Who you've become? You mean you're not happy with who you are?"

Unreservedly relieved by the knowledge that Jack would still be around for the time being, a recent remark suddenly springing to mind, saw Ianto becoming amused, to the point of laughing blatantly in Jack's direction.

"What? What did I say that was so funny?" Jack asked, the look on his face varying between a show of feeling peeved and wanting to grin.

Unable to stop himself, Ianto began to laugh even harder. "And here's me thinking there was a certain level of perfection that you really shouldn't mess with." he relayed back with a delighted smile.

Growling, Jack punched out, catching Ianto on one shoulder, but the impact was so light it was obvious he'd never intended to cause any real harm.

Interrupting the light-hearted moment, the door, or rather its hinges, sent a piercing squeak up into the night sky and once more Jack's attention was snagged.

Staring over in its direction, watching it swing open and closed a couple of times, with a look so sorrowful that even Ianto himself wanted to cry, he sent his gaze up to the stars and kept it there.

Ianto swallowed hard, trying to clear his throat.

"When you say 'key holder', you mean that doctor of yours, don't you?" he realised.

Jack shrugged, unconvincingly.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he lied, not even thinking to use the unconcerned look he would normally add for Ianto's benefit; he'd passed the 'making an effort to deceive' point quite a while back. "What's done is done," he added with a sigh. "And I guess I'm just gonna have to learn to deal with the fact."

Ianto, as expected, saw straight through the apathetic claim.

Jack steeled his stare, holding eye-contact for just a second, then he smiled as if acknowledging that, deep down, they were both aware of the real truth of things.

"Of course, the most unfortunate part for me," he began again, surprisingly affably, "Is how my 'condition' …. constantly plays a part in any new friendships that I make. And, of course, the same thing applies to relationships, too." He added with a meaningful glance.

Caught out by the sudden change of direction, with a small cough of embarrassment Ianto shuffled on his bum

"Well, who, out of any of us working for Torchwood, stands a chance when it comes to that sort of thing?" he hurriedly pointed out, hoping the new steadfastness to his tone might help deflect from how incredibly awkward Jack's use of the word relationship was making him feel.

"I mean, take my track record, for instance." he blurted out, ruining his previous good work on the cool exterior front and drawing only more attention to his unsettled state. "Shocking! And as for Owen? Well, he seems quite happy to spend the rest of his days as Cardiff's very own un-eligible bachelor. Even Gwen, the only one out of us, of course, that's actually in a relationship, makes us continually aware of the fact that she feels she's settling for second best. And as for poor Tosh ….."

"In exactly three days' time, 'poor Tosh', as you call her, Ianto, will have a handsome young soldier on her arm." Jack reminded him flatly.

"Ah, yes."

With the timely reminder on board, Ianto could only nod his agreement. "The date hadn't escaped my attention." He revealed with a sigh. "But I have to admit, Jack, I do have my reservations about this situation with her and Tommy as well. I mean, I know it's nice to see her happy for a change, but it's not exactly healthy, is it - her waiting from one year to the next for that one single day when she gets to be wooed by her, well, on this occasion it just happens to be her one hundred and four year old beau?"

"Okay, yeah, I guess I can kinda see what you're sayin' here, but I don't think that's all there is to Toshiko," protested Jack, "I mean, from what I've been witnessing lately, I'd say she's more than been waiting on Owen to show her some attention."

Ianto made his usual 'I'm not totally convinced' small huffing noise. "Well, she's going to be waiting a long time there, isn't she!"

"So are you volunteering to point that out to her?" goaded Jack with a smirk on his face.

"You're her boss." Was stated very defensively.

"But she listens to you, Ianto. She's been far more open with you since that unfortunate incident with Mary."

Another painful memory returned and Ianto let loose a loud sigh. "Poor, Tosh. When you look at it, she really doesn't have a lot of luck go her way, does she."

"Do any of us?" shrugged Jack already armed with over a century's worth of examples to draw upon.

A minute passed. The almost audible whirring of cranial cogs saw yet another moment of awkwardness forming between them.

Second after uncomfortable second ticked by.

It was Ianto who caved first. He already needed a pee and the knot of anxiety twisting away at his insides wasn't exactly helping with things on that front. So, with nothing else forthcoming, he opted to take the bull by the horns and just go with something that had seen him wondering since that first offer of a date. They'd already tiptoed over some very tentative ground tonight, he decided, so what harm could it do to ask Jack just a few more pertinent questions? At the end of the day, which, coincidentally, it was, all he needed to come back with was a simple yes, or no.

How damaging could that be?

"Um, Jack?" he started, straight away kicking himself over how unconfident he'd just sounded. "If things were to say, you know, be ….. different from how they are now; in the non-work related sense, I mean. Like if things were more, say …. normal for us, do you thi …"

"Ianto, I don't just think …." Jack snapped, making the younger man jump out of his skin. "I damn well know!"

"You mean …..?"

"I mean, Ianto, that if my situation right now was somehow …. different, if I wasn't the person that, unfortunately, I am, then, 'yes', things would definitely be different between us. So very, very different ….." he finished softly, as if already becoming caught up in his thoughts.

"Um, oh, okay …" God help him he was blushing again. So much for the simple yes or no responses, then!

"And is there any chance of you not being you, at all, in the very near future?" Ianto wondered, recovering slightly.

Hoping not to sound too presumptuous he tried injecting a little humour back into the proceedings. "Only, if possible, I prefer to know where I stand with the people that I sleep with on a regular basis."

Accepting of his portion of the blame and already nodding ruefully, Jack seemed to be considering how to word his reply. He was, actually, in many sectors of the galaxy, known for his dexterity with words, most of them being alien in origin, obviously, but as a rule he could usually hold his own in a conversation whichever planet he was on.

Except on Earth ….. where he had one weak spot.

When it came to Ianto Jones he always managed to say the wrong thing. Even when having convinced himself of the appropriateness of his prepared lines of speech beforehand, the second he opened his mouth a car-crash of a conversation would invariably commence.

Ianto had looked to him for guidance since day one, and up until his little 'year-long excursion' he'd been mostly in control of every discussion they'd ever had. But since choosing to return to his team ( and Ianto, especially ), he'd had trouble stringing even two sentences together.

He'd even made a fool of himself trying to ask Ianto out on a date. Never, in all the years he'd been using them, had throwing a chat up line in someone's direction proven so difficult to do. He'd stumbled over his words like some inexperienced teenager, and in interrupting him that night it had been Ianto that had eventually taken control of the proceedings.

Focussing on the Welshman himself, Jack's insides fluttered. Ianto was sitting there now, waiting like a wig-less Justice of the Peace just waiting to see what nonsensical wonders were going to spew from his lips this time.

"Ianto, I know the uncertainty surrounding what we have at the moment must be far from acceptable to you," He started off fairly safely, only to add in a moment of ruination, "And believe me, I'm just as frustrated as you by the clandestine nature of our affair."

"Clandestine?"

Ianto had, indeed, been rubbed up the wrong way.

"Jack," he frowned, "Trust me, running around the workplace whilst shedding our clothing does not equate to us having a clandestine affair! It's me and you … having sex! And I think the rest of the team regularly making jokes about our unpredicted Weevil hunts, kind of renders your suggestion that the pair of us are a closely guarded secret, a pretty ludicrous one, don't you?"

Already like an old bickering couple and, of course, both as stubborn as the other, an uncomfortably long moment of eye-balling followed.

"We ... are about sex, Jack, nothing more." Ianto felt obliged to remind his boss. "I've already been smart enough to take that simple fact on board, even if you haven't. But what I need to know is … are these odd sessions of sex going to lead to anything more, solid, say, or do you suggest that I try to view them as merely a pleasurable interlude? You're the one dictating where this goes, Jack. The least you could do is show me a little of what the word 'we' actually means to you."

Still taken aback by the brazen way in which Ianto had chosen to speak to him, without realising it, Jack was sporting a particularly endearing example of his 'little boy, lost' look.

"I'd love there to be more than there is," he stated quite openly, keeping his voice steady and low. "But I can't allow … I mean ….. I can't take any more chances when there's ….."

Blowing out a long and disappointed breath, Jack took a moment to compose himself before trying again. "Okay. Ianto ... in the past I've allowed myself to get close; to become more intensely involved, shall we say, with certain individuals than I'd intended, and as a consequence I've grown to love them, have allowed that private side of me to revolve around them and only them . Those times should've been the happiest of my life, something that I'd appreciate having to look back on in later years. But instead, they became the most painful …. and over time I grew sick and tired of having to deal with so much pain …."

He paused to shake his head at the clueless young man sat before him. "I'm sorry, Ianto, but I know I won't be able to deal with what getting that close to you will mean for me; it hurts too much, and I'm so, so sorry for how that will always affect …..."

"Okay, Jack, just stop, please , don't say anymore – I don't want you to feel you have to explain anything so personal to me."

His tetchiness forgotten and burgeoning feelings of guilt now palpable, with a vehement shake of his head, Ianto reached across. "The explanation was more than appreciated, Jack." he said quietly, gripping tightly onto an upper arm, "The apology, however, was never a requirement."

With a watery Jack peering over at him, Ianto hoped the sense of compassion he was feeling for the man might be visible in his smile. "I understand, Jack," he tried to reassure. "Just knowing that you would …. if you could ….. is enough for me."

Jack's head tipped back with a groan. "Ianto, please, don't. Don't you dare turn this into something that doesn't matter."

He righted his head to reveal a face etched with even more pain than before. "It does matter! We matter! And I'm …"

"Doing the best you can, Jack … and I have no right to ask any more of you."

There was a sigh; defeated and exasperated, then Jack took hold of one cold hand. "Ianto, what we have is not gonna work for everybody, I know that. And I also know that I'm one lucky son of a bitch that you put up with me …. with this …. I mean … with us."

His mouth running away at a rate of knots, Jack lowered his lids; calmed himself for a second, then gave it another go.

"This is really important, Ianto, and …. Damn! We shouldn't be having to do this!" was snapped angrily. "You sittin' there, never wantin' to hurt anyone, being forced to take this shit on board …. It's not on!" he raged. "This conversation should never have been for you ….. You, of all people, do not deserve to hear bullshit like this."

Watching Jack slowly losing it, Ianto's heart continued to break for him. He certainly couldn't disagree with the man's sentiments. The fact that any future they might have together, was totally out of their control was unfair – fucking unfair, even. And the fact that one man had been forced to live his life like this for over a century only convinced Ianto all the more that there was nobody there on some loftier plain looking out for them. Jack may have displayed several dubious traits in his time, but even he didn't deserve to be suffering like this.

"I'm here, with you, because I want to be, Jack." Ianto reminded him. "And I'm more than ready to deal with any of the shit this curse of yours decides to send my way."

Hands clasping in his lap, Jack nodded down at them.

The stranded Welshman, left on his own, found himself wondering if that was it, that in remaining silent, Jack was giving in; letting him think that he was okay with how things were.

The second that Jack lifted his head, and Ianto saw the look in his eyes, that theory of his was proven wrong.

"Ianto, just because I can't have a real life with you," his features serious, that look in Jack's eye became even more intent. "That doesn't mean that I wouldn't want the lot …. the full works. And you know, the fact that you want to be here for me regardless, means just as much as ….."

"Having a ring on your third finger? Two point four kids and a dog in the backyard? Washing the car on Sundays? Trips to the beach each summer? Having the family round for ….."

A finger was snapped onto Ianto's lips to shut him up.

"Okay, okay, yeah, that'lI do thanks, Ianto, I can see you've got my point." Jack was laughing now. "And, yeah," he nodded, "Maybe, in time, I really would feel comfortable with all of those things ….. and maybe even more." he finished with a crooked smile.

"It's never going to happen, though, is it?" Ianto sighed sadly.

"No, I'm afraid it's not." Jack agreed, sounding just as sad.

"Then we'll just have to make the most of what we can have, won't we!" Folding his arms, Ianto gave a definitive, no nonsense shrug.

Jack gasped at him, amazed. "You're saying you're okay with what we are? You're okay with what little we can have? Just like that?"

"Yep, just like that." he was told succinctly.

Taking the affirmation on board with a grateful squeezing of fingers, Jack was already looking thoughtful again. "Ianto?" he said with a definite query to his voice.

"Hmmm?" was all a mentally exhausted Ianto felt up to saying at this point.

Jack's brows drew closer together.

"How the hell did we get from you having vertigo to this?"

The point in question throwing him as well, Ianto took a moment to deliberate and cogitate. Eventually he decided, "I have absolutely not the faintest idea," adding a concerned, "Why? Is it a problem?"

"No," Jack admitted with a sigh, "I guess not."

Not for the first time since they'd arrived, they sat there quietly together, on this occasion becoming lost to the odd reflective thought or two. Even the wind had dropped in honour of the moment, leaving the air around them pleasingly calm.

Well, calm, that was, until the guilt-ridden immortal amongst them let out one sudden and loud laugh.

"Wow, this is one hell of a night off! Gotta love the Rift at times like this! Didn't expect this to happen … did you?"

Trying to get a word in edge-ways, and quickly growing tired of repeatedly opening and closing his mouth for absolutely no reason, Ianto finally got to offer his view on the matter.

"No, I didn't either." he shared contemplatively. "Though I have to admit, I'm slowly beginning to see what the appeal with you and roof-tops might be."

Already onto his next hyper wave of thoughts, Jack looked curiously at the man opposite. "Iantoh?" he asked, dragging the name out on a sigh.

"Hmmm?"

"Am I right in thinking that, within the space of just half hour ….. and up on top of the tallest building in Cardiff, to boot, we've actually managed to learn more about each other, than we have in the entire time we've know each other?"

Mouth turning downward, Ianto considered Jack's question, then nodded his agreement. "Yep, I'd say that's a fair assumption."

"Well I'd say that's pretty damn amazing, wouldn't you?" Jack laughed, slowly becoming more and more relaxed.

As his boss sat there chuckling away to himself, Ianto couldn't help but agree with him - it 'was' pretty damn amazing.

Not that they'd changed the world or anything. They hadn't made any great strides, or even turned any corners worthy of note. But what they did have for now was a glimmer of hope, just a glimpse of the clearer way forward that was now theirs for the taking, and, of course, that all-important mutual acceptance that , over time, a very many shortcomings were sure to be displayed by both.

Now laughing along with Jack, Ianto made one final suggestion. "Perhaps you should bring me up on a roof with you more often." he smiled, sounding nothing less than genuine with his offer.

Jack didn't need telling twice.

"Oh, I intend to, Ianto Jones, don't you worry about that!" he replied emphatically.

.

.

Ianto could already feel the change in atmosphere between them, a hint that things were going to be maybe just a little easier from now on.

But not everything had to change. Still, nobody, other than themselves, needed to be made aware of the extent to their association ... holding onto the odd secret here and there, at times, could be fun. And besides, some of those 'clandestine' chases around the archives with Jack had seen him having the most fun he'd ever had.

Jack wanted him – beginning -middle - end – full stop. And that was all that mattered.

.

.

.

The sky was slowly filling with clouds blown in by the new gusts of Welsh wind. The temperature was rising too and Ianto noticed that his goose-bumps were now just a fading memory.

It was ironic that - just when he'd started to enjoy himself four hundred feet up from the ground, it really was time for them to think about leaving ... there were a few interesting activities, at least, that they had to fit in before the others came piling back through the door, looking to carry on with their life of Torchwood 'normality'.

.

.

.

Peering up, and finding Jack looking to seek out 'his' gaze also, Ianto had already come to the conclusion that his life couldn't possibly get any better. He had an ongoing role to play, several, in fact. And he was important; needed. He was a vital element – one fifth of the whole, dedicated to protecting the good people of his home city.

And Jack had come back ...… ... for him.

Yep, he was happy with his lot, and for a change, he was happy in himself.

So, yes, he was definitely right - no way could his life possibly get any better.

.

.

Then he looked up ...

.

.

and saw that damned smile …

.

.

.

TWTWTWTWWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

.

.

.

Thanks for reading …. bwb.