Torchwood Fic: Past and Forever, Epilogue 6/6

[veronicaluv]

Title: Past and Forever
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: Adult, for offscreen violence, bad language and non-graphic sex
Author's notes: Vaguely spoilerish for the entire series, up until the last two minutes of "Fragments". Blessings as always on the head of aithine for her fabulous contributions.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters.

This is a love story.

Epilogue

"Reports are done and uploaded, Jack."

Ianto looked up from the artefact database he was updating and glanced at Tosh, who'd spoken in a voice hoarse with fatigue. She looked as exhausted as they all felt as she removed her glasses and rubbed at the space between her eyes. Behind her, he could see Gwen stretching her arms above her head as she yawned, then tilting her head from side to side to relieve the strain.

Jack turned from his conversation with Owen and swept them all with a measuring glance.

"I know it's been a long day. Why don't you all head for home and we'll start fresh in the morning."

"It is morning." Owen was already reaching for his jacket. "But you don't have to tell me twice." Ianto wondered what Owen did with his time, now that all his erstwhile favourite pastimes were off limits. He sped past Ianto without saying goodbye, unlike Tosh, who took the time to straighten her workspace before calling out an all encompassing goodnight, gathering a sleepy-eyed Gwen with her on the way out.

Ianto turned back to his computer, determined to finish at least this portion before getting on with the rest of his duties. It was going on one a.m., but as long as there were dirty dishes to wash and weapons to be cleaned, he was still on the job.

Jack came up behind him and Ianto shot him a look over his shoulder.

"Almost finished, but I still have to cross-reference the files."

"Why don't you leave that until later?"

Ianto leaned back in his chair and dug his palms into his still sensitive his eyes. "I suppose it can wait." He rose to his feet and reached for an empty mug on the table. His hand was intercepted by Jack's grip on his wrist.

"That can wait, too. You need to rest."

"I feel fine, Jack."

Jack's slid his hand down into Ianto's and gave it a little tug. "I know you do, but not that long ago you weren't so fine. Your body needs a chance to recuperate."

"All right." Too tired to argue, Ianto gave the hand in his a brief squeeze and released it. He spotted his suit coat on the couch and began rolling down sleeves he'd pushed up when they'd returned earlier that night. Jack wandered away, obviously preoccupied with his attention elsewhere, and Ianto watched him as he buttoned his cuffs, wondering if he'd been dismissed when all he wanted to do was stay.

Trouble had erupted in the Rift almost as soon as Jethro Hardy's body had been destroyed. As a final legacy to his interference in their lives, a new pack of flesh-eaters had arrived, apparently looking for their recently banished kin. It had taken all the resources of the Torchwood team to round them up and send them on their way, but they'd left behind some weaponry that none of them had seen before. That was what had kept them working so late as they tried to identify the origins of the weapons, since clean-up had been extensive. This time, however, despite damage to a deserted pier, no one had died, so it was counted as a win.

Making no move to retrieve his jacket, Ianto stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, knowing he didn't want to spend one more night at home alone yet not sure how to ask for anything from Jack. The times in the past that he'd stayed the night had been a mutual choice, a natural conclusion to whatever he and Jack had gotten up to that evening.

But Jack was right, he was beyond tired. Where he'd spent the last few nights at his flat as a way of distancing himself from the trauma he'd experienced, now he wanted the comfort that Jack had seemed eager to offer. But to ask for that comfort, that sense of safety that Jack exuded without thought, could put things out of balance.

Or would it? As he picked up his coat, Ianto caught a glimpse of Jack in his office. Ianto sometimes thought it was the loneliest place in the world, where every burden Jack bore settled on broad shoulders that weren't quite wide enough on the bad days. They all looked to him to define their existence in many ways-father, leader, saviour, lover-and he gave back as best he could. But could he want something more from Ianto, something beyond what they already shared?

Instead of putting on his suit coat, Ianto walked over to the small cubby he used for his work and hung it on a wooden hanger. He removed his vest and slid it beneath the coat, followed by his tie. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, as were the just-fastened buttons on his cuffs. He rolled up his sleeves and after taking a moment to hide away one of the treasured Sharpies, he took a steadying breath and headed into Jack's office.

Jack didn't turn when Ianto joined him, though Ianto knew that Jack was aware he was there. A tumbler of Scotch in his hand, Jack's attention was focused on one of the wall mounted screens where he was running loops of the CCTV footage they'd taken from the pier. It was busy work, non-essential, and the disquietude it signified gave Ianto a small measure of courage.

He spoke softly, unwilling for this conversation to be held in normal tones. "You once asked me if I'd miss you if you left."

Jack lifted the glass to his lips and took a hefty swallow before setting it aside and facing Ianto.
"I remember."

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Ianto took a step deeper into the room. "I don't think you believed me when I said yes."

Jack lifted his chin, his brows drawing together in a frown. "Really? That's funny, because I don't think you believed me when I said that I wouldn't change loving you for the world."

Ianto managed to prevent his jaw from dropping, but barely. That wasn't how he remembered that conversation. He remembered the twist in his gut, hearing the regret in Jack's voice when he'd spoken of people that he'd loved. He remembered wanting desperately to be on that list and trying to convey as much to Jack but lacking the necessary words. And most of all, he remembered his heart cracking apart, everything inside him withering just a little bit more as his suspicions regarding his place in Jack's life had been confirmed.

And now Jack was telling him that he'd got it all wrong, and everything that had proceeded from that conversation had been based on an incorrect assumption.

"I didn't know." Ianto's voice roughened. "God, Jack. I didn't know that you meant me."

He turned away, embarrassed and dismayed that he'd missed something so precious. With an inarticulate curse, Jack hurried across the room and planted himself in front of Ianto, blocking his retreat.

"No more running away, Ianto. For either of us." He grabbed Ianto's arms. "Tell me what you want."

Ianto stood riveted, pinned to the floor by the fire in Jack's eyes. "It's not just about what I want any more."

"I thought I'd made it pretty clear what I wanted. I thought you wanted the same thing."

Ianto nodded, dropping his gaze. All along, he'd thought Jack wanted nothing more than fun, a warm and willing body to fight off the loneliness, not the encumbrance of a lovesick co-worker who needed more than he was prepared to give.

"It's not enough," he whispered. "What I want from you now is more than I have the right to ask."

"Try me." Jack's grip tightened."Ask me."

Resolutely staring at the button in the middle of Jack's shirt, Ianto spoke. "I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I was safe, feeling what I did about you. Then you left-us-and when you came back, something between us had changed but I couldn't figure out what. I couldn't define it, didn't dare put a name to it. It was getting harder and harder to view our...extracurricular activities as meaningless amusement."

"You mean our dabbling?"

Ianto's eyes flew up to meet Jack's stern gaze. "Martha told you I said that."

"She did." The clipped tone revealed deep hurt that Jack's impassive expression did not and Ianto winced.

"I'm sorry. It was easier to minimize our relationship than expose my feelings to a stranger."

Jack moved closer, crowding Ianto until his back collided with a flat surface. He slammed both palms against the wall next to Ianto's shoulders, effectively caging him. "What do you feel, Ianto?"

Gone were the anger and hurt from Jack's voice, replaced with an intensity that told Ianto more than words that Jack would accept nothing less than total honesty from him, whatever the cost to them both. He let his gaze drift over the beloved, troubled face, the bright, discerning eyes, the mobile mouth currently drawn tight.

"When you returned, I wanted to be content with what little pieces I had of you." Ianto summoned a tiny smile that died almost immediately. "I told you before that I'd become greedy. I don't think you had any idea what that meant until now."

"And you think that's asking too much?"

"Isn't it?"

Jack slid his hands upward along Ianto's arms, stroking his neck until his palms were cradling Ianto's jaw, thumbs scudding lightly over his cheeks. "Why don't you ask me anyway?"

"I don't know!" Ianto tried to elude Jack's grasp but he was held fast. "You tell me, Jack. Tell me what you're willing to give. Can you answer that question?"

"Yes, I can. And until you ran away, I wasn't sure you were ready to hear it. Or that you even wanted to."

"No choice any more, is there, for either of us," Ianto murmured. "And I didn't run away. I just needed some time to think. I'd always come back to you, you have to know that."

"Do I?" Jack's mouth quirked upward. "Listen to me, Ianto. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I don't give my heart easily. My body, sure, that's the simple part. But I've learned to guard myself against feelings because each and every time, it only ends in pain. There has never been an exception, not one. I've loved and lost a hundred times over, and every time I swear that I won't go through that again. People change, they leave, they die, and after so many losses, there was nothing left of my heart to give. Torchwood was supposed to be a place to hide, a place to pass the time. No commitments, no emotions, just a job."

It was a desolating confession, and Ianto felt the blood drain from his face. Jack was finally answering his questions, all of them, and it was killing him inside. He didn't want to hear any more but when he tried to escape Jack's hold, he instead found himself enfolded into a fierce embrace that he instinctively returned with equal fervour.

Jack pressed his mouth to Ianto's ear. "And then the fucking universe hands me this beautiful, broken boy with a heart far too big for this world, and dares me not to love him. And I tried, Ianto. God, I knew you were trouble the moment we met and I tried so hard to keep you at arm's length, for your sake as well as mine. Even after we became lovers, I fooled myself into thinking that was all either of us wanted."

Jack pulled back and Ianto was shocked to see that his eyes were red, the lashes beneath them starred with tears. "You said John offered you everything," Jack continued hoarsely. "I can't match that offer. The only thing I can offer you is me, all of me, for as long as we have."

Eyes wide, Ianto whispered, "It can't be that easy, can it?"

"It will never be easy. But understand this. If I leave you, for any reason, it won't ever be because I want to. That burden will rest entirely on you."

"I don't understand. You have to know that-"

"Shhh, listen to me. You're so young and you have so much life inside you, chances are pretty good that you will grow tired of me long before I'm ready to let you go. All I ask from you is that you're honest with me when that day comes. Loving me will be harder for you than anyone who's come before you and harder than you can possibly imagine. I wanted to spare you that, but God help me, I couldn't."

Ianto slipped his hand beneath the collar of Jack's shirt, searching out the warm flesh above the edge of his undershirt. "It's not your fault that I fell in love with you."

Jack leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "No, but it is my fault that I didn't fight hard enough to stop from falling in love with you."

"Are you saying that I'm irresistible?"

Jack smiled as Ianto had intended, but the shadows remained in his eyes. They were still tightly entwined, their mouths separated by mere inches, and Ianto held himself back from kissing away the taut lines that framed Jack's eyes, waiting for the words that would give him the right to offer such comfort.

"I think that's my line," Jack replied lightly, then turned serious again. "Be sure, Ianto. You can walk away at any time, but it'll be a hell of a lot easier if you decide to call it quits now."

For the first time in years, since before Canary Wharf, Ianto felt the first stirrings of peace. All of his miserable attempts at locking away every part of his life into neat little boxes, his failure to see what Jack had been trying to tell him for so long-it all drifted away, scattered by the warmth in Jack's eyes. Jack was offering him everything he'd been missing-a home, as much stability as their work allowed, and love enough to fill up the emptiness inside them both.

"I'm not going anywhere, but I'd ask the same of you. I realize that time passes differently for you and what we'll have together isn't much more than a blink. But it's all I have, and all I'll have of you. When the day comes that I'm not enough-"

"That won't happen."

Ianto shook his head, for once feeling older and wiser than Jack. Nothing was certain, in this life or the next. And Torchwood proved that to them every day. "How can you be sure?" he asked, not really expecting a serious response and stunned by the one he received.

"How?" Jack brushed his mouth over Ianto's, a teasing promise of a kiss. "I'll love you for eternity, Ianto Jones. I have no other choice."

~~

Strong arms encircled him from behind, closing gently over his abdomen and drawing him close.

"What's the matter? Couldn't sleep in the new digs?"

Ianto leaned back into Jack's embrace, closing his eyes as he folded his arms over Jack's, basking in the warmth that Jack carried around him like a cape. Even bare chested beneath an unbuttoned shirt, the heat from his skin enveloped Ianto, instantly relaxing muscles that he'd unconsciously tensed. The Hub was running cool, the air flow dancing around them tinged with the inescapable hint of algae. Dressed in nothing but a tee shirt, trousers and a pair of socks, Ianto hadn't noticed the chill until Jack had wrapped him within the welcome cocoon of his body heat.

"Myfanwy seemed restless, so I thought I'd check to see if a cat had gotten into the ducts again."

"That's strange, I didn't hear anything."

Ianto smiled at Jack's mock-pouty response. "I'm not surprised, the way you were snoring."

"I do not snore." Jack's embrace intensified, his voice lowering ominously but the effect was ruined when Ianto felt a kiss on his temple.

"Of course not. Those were merely the gears of your vast intellect I heard grinding in my ear."

"Ha, very funny. Did you find a cat?"

"No, so now you'll have no reason to flirt with the animal rescue veterinarian again."

"I did not flirt with him! I was just being appreciative!"

"To borrow a phrase, is that what they're calling it these days? But don't worry, Jack. I'd never expect you to stop flirting. That would be like the sun rising in the west. Unnatural, and faintly disturbing."

"The sun rising in the west is just disturbing? You have interesting priorities." Jack released Ianto but snagged his hand as he wandered toward the couch, keeping Ianto in tow. "By the way, it goes both ways, you know. Don't think I haven't noticed the intimate little tête-a-têtes you've been having with the new pizza delivery girl."

"Samantha?"

"See? You know her name! I didn't know the vet's name."

"That would be Colin."

Jack used his hold on Ianto's hand to yank him into his arms. "You're a menace."

Affronted, Ianto defended himself. "No, I'm thorough."

The teasing smile faded, replaced with something much more intimate, and Ianto's breath caught in his throat. He knew that look. He coveted it, he worked for it, he saw it a hundred different ways every day. He saw it when he brought Jack a report or handed him his gun. Sometimes he'd look up from dinner, or his computer, or a file he was reading, to find Jack's gaze resting on him.

That in itself wasn't new. Jack could seduce him with nothing more than a glance across the room, but those heated, broody stares were nothing compared to the love that suffused Jack's expression when Ianto caught him looking now. More often than not, just like now, that love had more than a little bit of rueful lust lingering behind it.

"I hate to disagree with your self-assessment," Jack murmured, "but I find that there are some things around here that have been left undone."

Ianto frowned, knowing what was coming and resigned to playing Jack's straight man for the foreseeable future.

"Really? What?"

"Me."

"Shocking," was as much as he managed to say before Jack's mouth descended on his.

The first time they'd made love after the attack had been the night they'd admitted everything to each other. There'd been no berets, no games, none of the distractions they'd both hidden behind, nothing but the two of them using their bodies to reaffirm the choices they'd made. It'd been more emotionally intense than any encounter they'd previously shared, infinitely more tender. Jack had always been a considerate, generous lover, but that night he'd been reverent, worshipping Ianto with his hands, his body and his words.

Almost a week had passed since that night, and many things had changed, and many had not. If the others noticed a difference in their relationship, they kept it to themselves, or more likely gossiped about them behind their backs. The only real evidence of a physical sort was the appearance of a slightly larger bed stuffed into Jack's quarters, something that Ianto assumed he was the only one to witness, for which he was profoundly grateful since he'd never hear the end of it from Owen.

Of course, he'd made sure to demonstrate his appreciation of Jack's thoughtfulness as often as possible.

The Rift had belched out more than its usual mischief and the team had been on the run for three days straight. It'd been business as usual, including the occasional kiss stolen in a convenient corner, or the brush of hand as a coffee cup was passed. Before, those gestures had been a tease. Now, they were a promise.

Jack's hands were at Ianto's waist, gathering the hem of his tee shirt and pulling it over Ianto's head and throwing it God knew where. His own hands were busy stripping off Jack's shirt from his shoulders, exposing the glowing, smooth skin that he adored.

"So beautiful," he whispered. He pressed his mouth to Jack's throat, licking and tasting and revelling in Jack's moans, unaware that Jack had unfastened his trousers until a cool breeze slid across the skin at the base of his spine. Jack had one hand buried in Ianto's hair, the other low on Ianto's bared hip as they kissed, tongues duelling, desire that was always only a touch away igniting the air between them.

"Are you ready-whoa-," Jack panted, then paused to suck in a deep breath as Ianto unsnapped his trouser button. "Yeah, okay, that answers that question. Let's go back to bed."

"No." Ianto slipped his leg behind Jack's and twisted, controlling Jack's fall to the couch. "Too far away."

"I like the way you think," Jack gasped, and the wrestling began in earnest.

Later, properly in bed and with Jack asleep in his arms, Ianto remained awake, listening to the sounds of Torchwood creaking and sighing around him, his muscles lax in the aftermath of Jack's artful lovemaking. He'd taken Ianto to the edge again and again, breathlessly demanding love words and over the top romantic promises until Ianto had been forced to turn to threats of withholding coffee. Then the fun mood changed as Jack had slowly entered his body, with exquisite care and attention to Ianto's every need, and then the words between them were no longer playful, but honest, heartfelt expressions of a love neither of them had ever expected to find again.

Ianto dozed for a bit, but awoke before Jack once more. He slid from their bed and paused long enough to run his fingers over Jack's cheek and pull the blanket higher across the broad shoulders. Then he gathered up his chosen attire for the day-charcoal grey pinstripe, blue shirt, blue and lavender striped tie-and ascended the ladder to Jack's office. After starting a pot of coffee to brew, he flipped on the lights and began powering up everyone's station before heading off for a shower and a shave.

Just another day at Torchwood.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you,
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life,
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours--
And the songs of every poet past and forever.

Rabindranath Tagore, Unending Love