Torchwood - Missing Scene from Countrycide

by T.L. Lawrence and T.D. McKinney

"We should get some firewood." Gwen jumped up fast enough to settle a knot hard in his stomach. It really would have been better to just not speak up for his turn at that juvenile game.

Owen moved right behind her. "Yeah, I'll go with you." Leaving Tosh staring at the ground and Jack glowering at the world in general.

Damn it all. Ianto Jones got up, walked into the oversized tent he'd be sharing with Jack out here in the middle of nowhere, and started straightening the blankets on one cot. God only knew what Jack was hacked off over this time. Lately it seemed like Jack was hacked off at Ianto in one fashion or another all the time. Oh, it didn't show, not overtly, but every now and then Ianto would catch Jack staring at him with this hard, intense look that could mean anything but sure didn't vibe warm fuzzies. That and the fact that Jack had insisted on dragging Ianto along for this little expedition, as if he expected Ianto to haul more cybers into the basement if left alone too long.

He kicked at the duffel bag under the cot, making sure it wasn't protruding, then started straightening the other cot on the far side of the tent. There just wasn't enough to clean in the small space. How the hell am I supposed to not think if I don't have anything to pick up?

Oh lord. Looked like thinking might be all too high on his agenda as Jack stomped in. Yeah, definitely hacked off still. The captain threw himself onto the cot with enough force its creaks concerned Ianto. Jack stared at the canvas top, lips pursed and eyes smoldering. Pity there wasn't something in the immediate area he could kill; maybe then he'd feel better.

Ianto didn't make it a full minute under the suffocating weight of that pique. "Is there something wrong, sir? I'm afraid coffee will have to wait until Gwen and Owen are back with the firewood."

Jack's eyelids fluttered and Ianto half expected his eyes to roll back. Apparently, not a comment Jack could appreciate at the moment. "I don't want coffee."

"Very good, sir. I'll leave you to your thoughts, then." Maybe Toshiko could stand to be around him instead. God knew Jack didn't seem to be able to take it. He'd go get the last of the bags from the SUV and make sure they were stored in the proper tents.

"Lisa wasn't your last snog." Petulance oozed through that American accent. Alien energy beams couldn't fire with any more heat than Jack's glare. "That's my current thought. Wanna share that one?"

"I'm sorry?" Pouting over that stupid game? Since when— Wait. He just said... Ianto let his mind play back over the last excruciating fortnight, paying close attention to detail. "Um...yeah, last snog in memory, Lisa, that would be her. Sorry. Wires crossed. Must be the fresh air."

"Close, but no hand-rolled Cuban cigar. Want to try it again?" The glare threatened to burn a hole in the tent behind Ianto. "Who was your last kiss, Ianto? I can't believe you'd find it forgettable."

"Lisa." What the hell sort of torture was Jack up to now? "Lisa Hallett. Surely you remember. Woman I loved more than life itself before you killed her." Ianto didn't bother squelching his own glare this time. "So sorry if my memory of her bothers you, but it's better than the nightmare of those final two days."

Jack growled and shot from the cot, backing Ianto against the support post of the tent. "Really?" He pressed close, enough Ianto could feel heat through his clothes. "Want to discuss a new memory?" Blue eyes glittered, hard and...well, not cold. Not what you'd call comforting, but definitely not cold. "I'm all in favor of new memories, because they do keep the old ones from taking over your mind."

Ianto sighed. Might just as well get this over with, because God knew Jack never gave anyone a straight answer until he was damn good and ready. And those ready moments came about once a century. "Fine, Jack. Have it your way. Refresh my memory. Who was my last kiss?"

Strong fingers tangled in his hair. Jack drew close, so much so his breath eased across Ianto's lips, warm and faintly mint-scented. Cerulean eyes glinted, dangerous and far too heated. Anger and...something else Ianto couldn't quite grasp tingling on his skin. "Me."

Ianto opened his mouth to protest and stopped to think why on earth Jack would have that idea. You almost executed me. Why the hell would you even think of kissing me, let alone actually do it? Replaying those horrifying moments felt like a laser cutting through his gut, but he did it to find out how to correct Jack in a way that wouldn't get him punched. "Wait." A breath came out as a laugh. "Jack, that wasn't a kiss. That was rescue breathing. Though why you bothered—"

"Don't tell me what I was thinking, Ianto. I know when I want to kiss someone." Closer yet. Ianto could almost taste Jack's breath. "Believe me, I'm not the kind of man who doesn't know what he wants." His body pressed closer, every long line of it touching Ianto's. "You didn't need me to breathe for you. But I sure as hell needed to kiss you."

The convoluted logic and emotions behind that made no sense whatsoever. Ianto tried to work his brain around it and succeeded only in furrowing his brow and speaking the first words he could process. "For God's sake, why?"

Lips ghosted across the sensitive skin just below his ear. "Oh come on, Ianto. I'm not noted for being subtle." They followed the line of his jaw, pure electricity flashing through Ianto. "I kissed you because I wanted to. Want can be a beautiful thing."

"Um..." Okay, brain processes way harder with that taking place. "You were ready to kill me, Jack. I'm surprised you didn't. I betrayed you, betrayed Torchwood, and didn't believe you about...about..." He couldn't say her name and associate her with...it. "Until it was too late. Not seeing a whole lot of reason to want to kiss me over that. Unless it was just some oh-gee-the-world's-ending-let's-snog urge."

"Uh-uh. Been wanting to snog you for weeks before that. Wanted to at the warehouse." Blunt teeth nipped at the tender skin just below his jawline. "Really snog you." A broad hand worked between them to grasp and fondle. "And I would have killed anyone else. But I couldn't kill you. Not when I want you this much."

"But...I don't...I mean, I'm not..." So why did his knees feel like water and his vision tunnel to only Jack? Their—okay, so he guessed it actually was a kiss—had shocked him, not because Jack was a man necessarily, but because it had caused this same feeling. He'd never been attracted to a man before. He wasn't entirely sure that's what this was. Attraction...addiction...hallucination...rapid descent into gibbering mania...

"You're gorgeous. And you make me hard." Jack's grin should have ignited the tent and everything within 20 meters. "I loved that kiss. Now the question is: do you want another?"

"I...what?" God, this felt as intimate as that night, chasing down the pterodactyl, rolling with Jack on the concrete floor to avoid being crushed by the falling creature. Jack's form beneath him had prompted a vivid awareness that felt far too much like betraying Lisa for Ianto to pay it much mind at the time. Now, it flooded back with a vengeance, driven by the fire in Jack's eyes. "What?"

Jack's laugh sizzled on Ianto's skin. "Do. You. Want. Another. Kiss. From me."

Dear sweet God. He'd never wanted anything more in his life, and that realization scared the hell out of him. But the memory of the almost-kiss they'd shared in the warehouse kindled something deep and warm where he thought he'd never be warm again. He pulled in a breath and made a choice. "Yeah. I want another kiss from you, Jack."

"Thank God." Jack pulled him close, mobile lips touching his...

"Jack! Oh, God, Jack, come quick! Ianto! Tosh!"

A profanity blistered from Jack's lips to Ianto's. "Hold on to that feeling. I'm just getting started with you." He released Ianto and headed for the tent opening, but turned his head back just before he stepped out. "Oh yeah, just getting started."

Ianto stayed put for a minute, just to get his bearings again and so he wouldn't make a complete arse of himself by falling out of the tent door. What was...that? And did he dare believe it was real? Something not-quite-hope stirred in his gut that maybe, just maybe, Torchwood could still be home.

END