Chapter 7 - Closing Time and Wish You Were Here

While he was taking a quick drink from his water bottle, Ianto checked the time on his watch. With equal measures of disappointment and achievement, he announced the last song.

The tradition had started the third week, when Gareth finally insisted they use one particular song to signal the end of the night and send the patrons off. It was Marv who'd jokingly strummed a few chords on his guitar - only to have the others take his suggestion seriously.

So now it was habit to announce the final song and invite everyone to sing along with them.

"Closing time. Open all the doors and let you out into the world. Closing time. Turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl."

Ianto always found amusement in the expressions of the newbies, who had a tendency to stare in drunken shock as the rest of the pub-crawlers erupted into a loud, surprisingly on-key version of the song. (After all, it was Wales.)

"Closing time. One last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer. Closing time. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Spinning to throw a quick wink at the rest of the band, Ianto really let loose - allowed himself to act the way he had when he was a reprobate teenager, which really wasn't all that long past. It felt like life times some days.

Now, though, now he let himself be sixteen again, wild and raucous, with too much energy and nothing to use it up but the music.

"I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home!"

He watched that feeling spread through the audience - distantly observed them forget their problems and revel in the moment.

"Closing time. Time for you to go out to the places you will be from. Closing time. This room won't be open 'til your brothers and your sisters come.

"So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits. I hope you have found a friend. Closing time. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

The whole pub was singing and shouting out the words, smiles on every face.

"I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home!"

Every time the chorus was sung, Ianto pictured the same cocky grin and handsome face, far-too-knowing eyes and strong arms, wrapped up in flash, pomposity and a woolen blue greatcoat.

"Closing time. Time for you to go out to the places you will be from."

All he really wanted to end the night was the chance to show up at the Hub and kiss Jack.

It was silly and juvenile. And he was a lovestruck, hopeless romantic who was tired of pretending.

"I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home!"

Then everyone cut out at once, still grinning, to let Ianto finish off.

"Closing time. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

The last note faded, Ianto nodded at the crowd and quietly sighed, fulfilled and tired. "Good night, everyone."

…..

…

…..

The next day was odd, to say the least.

It should have been a normal Monday, but instead everyone was acting off.

First Jack had dropped by to pick Ianto up for work, rather than letting him walk as normal. He hadn't even tried to get in more than a casual grope, after a quick and unusually chaste peck on the lips.

When they'd arrived at the Hub, there was only a mess left behind where the coffee machine used to be. Apparently, both Owen and John had gotten it into their heads to make the morning drinks, and the resulting argument, not to mention their complete lack of knowledge regarding the process of making the coffee, had ended in a small explosion which had taken the source of their daily caffeine with it.

Then Gwen had ordered everyone lunch, and done it under the name "Torchwood" (something that Ianto had been avoiding, and taught Owen and Jack to as well, in the past little while), followed by using the wrong charge account. Rhys showed up and just hung around for a tick, but spent all that time following Ianto about, rather than Gwen.

Tosh and Martha went out of their way to be extra nice to him, even attempting to do their own paperwork, and feed Myfanwy and Janet. That had gone badly, although luckily no one was harmed.

In fact, they all kept trying to clean up after themselves, in addition to everything else, causing Ianto's workload to more than double.

Near the end of the day, when Jack called him into his office just to hold his hand for an hour and ask about his life, the Welshman was beginning to wonder if there was something the others knew that he didn't.

Was he dying?

Finally, he'd had enough of everyone treating him like spun glass, trying to keep him from getting his hands dirty, doing their best to distract him from his duties.

Exasperated and exhausted, he pulled up the CCTV records for the last week and sat down to work his way through them. After three hours of useless staring, it was last Wednesday, he discovered, that they had started in at the huddling about and watching him when his back was turned.

Was this something alien, and he had simply missed being infected?

Then he saw the paper in Tosh's hand.

His mouth dropped open in disbelief, and he zoomed in.

Yes, that was most definitely one of the flyers Ewan had insisted they make and put up all over town. Which meant this whole thing was about them coming by Gareth's yesterday and-

Oh god.

Watching him perform.

If the universe was just (which it had proven time and again it was bloody well not) they wouldn't have been there. He hoped especially hard when he remembered the set list for Sunday. He'd been feeling a bit nostalgic and depressed when he'd put together that particular mix of songs.

No wonder they were treating him like he needed a break - they probably thought he was about to go on some kind of manic rampage.

God, this was not good.

Then he considered. Knowing the team, if they'd shown up once, they'd do it again. Which meant there was the distinct possibility of turning this whole fiasco back on them.

With a cheerfully evil little chuckle, he started planning.

…..

…

…..

Ianto found the whole thing a bit of a laugh.

When the next Sunday came 'round, he knew they'd try to sneak in, all of them. But it didn't help that he'd been so good as to give Tye at the door a picture of the whole lot.

In the end, they'd all been led straight to the table he'd convinced Gareth to set up. And he might have avoided looking at that spot throughout the whole set. It was just too much of himself on display.

And it would hurt, more than he could say, if he were to check and find them bored or uninterested, or even disgusted at the way he was acting.

So he'd spent the time throwing himself into performing and doing his very best not to let nerves overcome him.

But now the end was here, and he slowly moved closer to the microphone and began to speak.

"I'm afraid tonight we're going to forego Closing Time. I've got something a bit different planned."

Finally, finally he let himself look. And he couldn't stop the relief and joy, and the basic feeling of family flooding over him.

They were all watching, and looked happy - legitimately happy - to be there.

"Sorry if this comes out a bit, well, emotional. Still, it needs to be said," Ianto shrugged. "This last song is dedicated to a certain group of people. The people who, for the past week, have made my life hell.

"But then they're also the ones who make my life worth living. And sometimes we hate each other, and cause one another all kinds of pain. That doesn't change the fact that we also laugh together and help through the worst times."

Slowly, his eyes scanned them, one after another.

"So, this one goes out to a lovely tech who's sometimes too smart for her own good. And a psychotic ex-con that can always make us smile, no matter how dire the circumstances. The two doctors, one an arsehole, the other an angel, who've driven themselves nearly mad patching us up. An ex-police constable with more heart and bravery than anyone I've met. The regular bloke who keeps us all from spinning off into space. And particularly for our unyielding leader, who couldn't stop himself saving us or the world if his life depended on it. Can't seem to get him out of my mind lately. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's as attractive as anything."

They all seemed surprised, pleased, and all of them (even John, Jack and Owen) wore expressions of fondness.

"To you lot, I just want you to know, there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you."

The last he aimed straight at Jack, then cleared his throat, and focused on his guitar.

The old chords were familiar, like a friend you've not seen in years and in a moment it feels just like it was at the beginning. He'd always loved this song, from the very first time he heard it. The lyrics were sad and lost, yet somehow the whole tone was one of comfort and hope.

One after another, the rest of the band joined in, slowly weaving the different pieces together into a single full song. And Ianto did his very best to let the memories of the past few years flow through the music, remembering the good and the bad, the triumphs and the fantastic and the amazing, without denying the failures and the broken and the heartache.

It was just life. And life was pain, and pleasure, and hope. And Ianto wouldn't trade it for anything.

"So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain? Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?

"Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in the cage?

"How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here."

…..

…

…..

Of course, not even their congratulations and apologies stopped Ianto from putting them all on decaf for the next week.

…..

end.

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a/n Thanks to everyone who has favorited, reviewed, or put this crazy little fic on story alert. It actually just started out as a oneshot, then I kept writing, and the next thing I knew… I think this is the fastest I've ever finished a full story. Weird.

Anyway, in case anyone is wondering about the music used throughout the course of this story, here's the list:

The Little Things (Linkin Park)

Rabbit Heart (Florence + The Machine)

Heartbreak Warfare (John Mayer)

For Your Entertainment (Adam Lambert)

Impossible (Anberlin)

Walking on Broken Glass (Annie Lennox)

Talking to the Moon (Bruno Mars)

Because of You (Nickelback)

Closing Time (Semisonic)

and

Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd)

Again, thank you!

~t.h.

…

a/n2 So, I do still have a list of a bunch of songs I think would work well for the Torchwood characters. Thus, fair warning, there may yet be a sequel to this. But it will depend entirely on the day of the week and what inspiration I have at any given moment. Because of this, go right ahead and keep sending me songs that you feel might work, and we'll see what happens.

Anyway, alons-y!