Summary: Jack is gone, and Ianto is feeling the loss, but... he still has things to do. Boss Man is just around the corner, and he has to deal with him before he can make his way back to Torchwood, back to Gwen and, unknowingly, back to Tosh and Owen.
But with Faeries and Mobsters and Embezzlers getting in the way... well, nothing is ever easy with Torchwood, is it?

Sequel to And I Wake Up

EACH CHAPTER IS (about)10K. Patience for the next chapter… or not.

See? I got this out just about on time. Ish. I said the weekend. What? You say it *is* the weekend? Since when do authors ever update when they say they will…?

Major notes at the bottom, and most of it is thank you's, but a great deal of it is story notes and part of it is me reassuring you that this will STAY a story about Ianto.

Alternative title song is "Kiss with a fist" by Florence and the Machine

ENJOY!

Also OMG ffn dot net is being bitchy! Took forever to get this uppppppppp! Like, THE NEXT DAY forever. I could have had this up lAST NIGHT.

Chapter 2—Hurricane Drunk by Florence and the Machine

Ianto stared out at the expanse of Cardiff and thought that rooftop entrances should be guarded more closely.

Shouldn't be so easy to get at.

The doors, at least, should have better locks than they did, and Ianto could name a good dozen security systems that wouldn't be so easy to turn off.

He sighed, sad for more reasons than shit security.

He kicked a pebble over the edge of the roof, listened for it hitting the ground several stories down…

Nothing.

Well of course he doesn't hear it. It was a small pebble, hardly made a sound in skittering over the edge, so it would hardly make enough landing noise to reach him up here.

It hit the ground, rolled, went over the edge and, he thought, would have the most freedom any pebble could hope to have before it hit the ground and then…

Well.

He moved to the edge; looked down.

He would most definitely break something if he fell from this distance.

Probably his neck.

He would rupture something, maybe, but in any case he would die of shock even if he only broke a leg, or arm.

He looked down at his feet.

Actually, he could probably break both of his legs, if he jumped right.

He briefly contemplated the possible differences in splatter formation if he were to swan dive from the edge versus falling backwards…

Contemplated it…

Thought that Jack could probably tell him.

But Jack was gone. Couldn't ask him anything.

Ianto looked up, and had never felt so resentful of the stars.

("Give him back!" he wanted to shout, but that was silly.)

He looked back down, the ground so far away, and thought yes, jumping from this height would definitely kill me if I did it right.

He sighed, and thought of the pebble.

Turned and headed for the roof's exit, numb.

(He hated symbolism.)

He was like the pebble. Hit the ground, rolled, went over the edge and, he thought, would have the most freedom any pebble could hope to have before it hit the ground and then…

(Hate Hate Hate Hate Hate.)

Well, he would hit, splatter, and then walk away, rolling for the next edge to fall off.

Only he would be hungrier, afterwards.

He thought about having to go grocery shopping again…

It really wasn't worth it.

He gave one last glance to the sunrise before shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

What a way to say hello to a brand new day.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

It got even better when, once back to his Lair, he found that Jakie had found time to get him a present.

He sighed, and looked at the small form at the foot of his bed.

Well, at least it wasn't at the head of it…

Ianto ignored the glare he got from Jackie when he carefully picked the dead rat up by its tail, and moved it to the trash.

Winced when its intestines rolled out from its belly, and thought that it was good that he was used to cleaning up gory messes.

He wasn't even upset that Jackie refused any offered petting for the next hour.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

There were a grand total of 16 locations the hard copies of his time in the Shooting Range could be, 11 of which were in Wales.

One location WAS the Shooting Range.

The remaining 4 were in London.

Ianto sighed and thought he'd have to wait until he looked older than 17 at the least before hitting those.

(He wondered why he even had to do this…)

He wondered if Gwen had had her baby yet. He could probably check hospital records…

He wondered if Rhys was helping her out with Torchwood… He hadn't been able to find the files of new members, but if he remembered correctly (always a worry, now that he had time to contemplate that his brain was remade every time he died), she'd never been as comfortable with the systems as the rest of the team.

Oh, he didn't fault her ability to use the search functions; she could find out everything about a person within a few days, and most everything about a company within a few weeks.

But putting in an order for supplies? No. Instead she let him know when there was need for another order of something, and Ianto would make note.

Setting up the account information for new members is about the same difficulty, and there had been no need to show her in all the time she'd been part of Torchwood.

Ianto briefly wondered if he would have ever gotten around to teaching her how, as Jack had always been… resistant towards getting new members.

Ianto thought that maybe it was because Jack had to see people around him changing while he stayed the same, That the rest of the world was moving forward and he was along for the ride but stuck

He thought that maybe he was wary of turning into another Torchwood One, with too many members to keep an eye on and too much going on at one for Jack to keep a handle on what was safe and what wasn't.

Jack did like having a hand in everything…

(Except now he was gone, didn't have a hand in anything, and bugger it Ianto wanted to just settle down and decide if he was more angry at Jack for going or being sad that Jack was gone, because these emotional swoops and turns were exhausting)

But it could be any number of things.

A small chime draws his attention back to the present, and he pulls the USB from its port.

He'd had to log in with Mainframe to get across what he was looking for, but he thought Mainframe had come through for him. The program that Mainframe had put on this USB should get as much closed off information from the computer networks as possible, sending it to Mainframe, and hopefully narrowing down his search for the Hard Copy. There was a lot one could do to get information while staying on your own computer and in your own system, but there are some things that don't quite transfer over.

He could, conceivably, bring Mini with him, but just the thought of damaging or losing or, oh gods, what if he was caught—

Ianto thought a USB would be easier. With Mini working from his computers here, the USB would create a one-way link from Mini to Boss Man's computer systems.

He pocketed the USB and thought that if he was lucky, there would only be the one hard drive.

If not, he would have to look for multiple ones… hell, if he wasn't careful, Boss Man would know he was going for the hard drives, and would make more of them. Or else move it/them to locations he'd already searched…

He shook his head.

No. Pessimistic thoughts later. He pulled up the layout of the nearest, and most fruitful seeming hideout, and set about figuring out how he would get in and out.

This would require some thought, especially if he wanted to stay as covert about it as possible.

(he wondered if Mini would be able to find out what Boss Man's name was, because while he thought that he would always be Boss Man to him, it would be good to put a name to the face. It would be good to put a background check to it, too.)

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Tosh finally found the footage she was looking with the correct timestamps and location, and was watching the first few minutes of it when it gets cut off.

Frowning, she checked the servers and tried again… and the footage was cut off again.

Someone had tried to delete the footage.

A grim smile in place, she set about digging up the original file… because the thing about someone trying to delete anything on a server like this was that the whole of it was never really deleted. Hundreds of different locations connected with the CCTV networks, and that was only including the publicly acknowledged, and there was always a trace of one part or another… and with a network this big, the entire thing was out there.

Just scattered.

Tosh had never managed to take up sewing like her mother had wanted her to learn, much too distracted by the opportunities she saw in technology, but she could patch together whole tapestries of information without missing a stitch, without showing a single seam. If she could actually explain it to her mother, she knew she'd be proud.

(Confused, yes, but proud.)

While pulling all the remnants together, she wondered at who had done this; wondered if it was the same people who'd held Ianto and… well.

With that incentive, she thought she'd never hacked into a system with such ferocity. She kept finding traces of the people who had tried to cover their tracks, and set up a program to store the information… she would have to find them sooner rather than later, but finding the people who'd made Ianto bleed was second to actually finding Ianto.

Finding out if Ianto was still alive.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Ianto rubbed at his eyes, feeling the budding headache at the backs of his eyes unfurl.

While the systems in the warehouse would be easy to access once inside, and the security system, while hard to get past, would be easy to shut down, there was a problem with how to get in.

All the areas that were made for entrance were heavily monitored, and the less conventional entry routes were covered as well.

He thought that perhaps Mainframe would be able to hack into their systems, but their security network was a monitored closed circuit. Anything added and it would be setting off alarms.

If Ianto could get close enough to one of the cameras he could connect Mainframe to the system that way, using the USB, and she'd be able to replace that camera in the system…

But he'd have to get close enough to do it.

And he'd probably have, at most, fifteen minutes to get in and out before Mainframe would be detected. Twenty tops.

Depending on their systems, 5-10 minutes for Mainframe to get in and create the link, and that left a very small window of opportunity, and this wasn't even taking the number of Thugs around at any time.

If he could create a distraction, he might be able to… But he had very few distractions up his sleeve that wouldn't alert them to the fact that someone was breaking in, or had broken in…

Ianto sighed.

He'd been working on this for much too long.

He needed to find something else to focus on.

Ianto briefly considered going for a walk—but no. Thugs had been wandering around his area lately; it would be best not to risk it.

(He needed something less deadly to focus on.)

He leaned back in his chair and looked back at his kitchen… no. He wasn't really hungry. And he'd cleaned when he'd brought in groceries earlier that week.

He debated taking a nap, but that would mess up his sleeping schedule, and since when had he ever had trouble finding something else to do? He didn't feel like reading, or watching a movie, and he needed to not be focusing on breaking into one of Boss Man's warehouses, and—

Blog. He'd write for his blog. He was on his own right now, he wanted to do something, and he would—blog. Yes.

Right.

What did people write about?

Ianto blanked. His last post (his first post) had been about starting a blog, and now he was…

… What did people do?

There was a hollow thuk behind him, the kittens had gotten into a tussle with each other and had knocked into the side of the cardboard box. Ianto's eyes lit up.

Cats! The Internet loved cats!

Ianto pulled up his site and started in on a new post.

He'd talk about how Jack turned into Jackie, what was happening with the kittens so far… and probably mention something about the dead rat she'd gifted him earlier that morning.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

"AH!"

Hank didn't even care about the looks he got from that, instead opening the link to iJones' new post and eagerly reading.

He finished reading it with a smile before realizing that it didn't read like Jones giving them something to do. It read like someone who didn't know very much about cats and found himself with kittens, and then had gone on a small and fairly cohesive tangent on what transgendered must go through.

He was disappointed for a moment, before grinning.

Oh Jones, you are brilliant!

He quickly typed out a quick message to Eunice, and started looking into everything that was mentioned.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

The next time Ianto dies is frustrating, because it isn't because of something he did, and it isn't because of Thugs (though that at least is a relief), but because some drunk prick decides to take the same backstreets home as Ianto is.

He's never been in a car accident; has never been hit by a car before, either. Doesn't like the experience. Doesn't like that all he hears from the driver is a cuss and then the sound of him driving away.

Damn drunk drivers…

He manages to catch a glimpse of the guy's plates before waking up with a cough, and is determined to call the guy in to the police.

"Watch where you're going, you odinebwr defaid!"

He shook his head, pissed off and frustrated, and now he really needed to get back and get himself some food…

Fucking drunk drivers…

Thinking of this as he was, by the time he scrabbles up the ladder and has eaten, he's registered the fact that he's no longer looking like a child, and that yeah, fuck it, he's getting sloshed tonight.

Because fuck drunk drivers.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Eunice stared at him, skeptical.

"You still think that this blog is Jones'?" Hank nodded. Eunice shook her head.

"No, seriously, you said we should look into his blog, and we did, and we waited for another post, and we did… and we got a post about cats. And you think this is from Jones?"

"No, no, no, see, that's where it's brilliance comes through! See, it's not actually a blog about cats." He stared at her intently, waiting… she sighed.

"It's not?"

"Noooo…. He wants you to think it's about cats. When really, he makes mention to, like, a dozen other things! We should be looking into those instead!"

"Really."

"Yep." Hank grinned happily at her. "Like, okay, look at it this way. He could be talking about how he actually managed to not notice the lack of fuzzy balls on his decidedly female cat, or," he emphasized, pausing a moment to blink once, deliberately, at her, "he could want us to look into transvestites or tranny's or cross-dresses… A bit of a stretch, I know, but that's what makes it brilliant. He could be talking about how difficult it is to manage a bunch of kittens, and how he hadn't even wanted the one cat, or," he paused again to blink deliberately at her, "he could be saying that he hadn't intended on giving us any notice, we might be too troublesome, but is giving us a chance!"

"I thought his 'giving us a chance' note was in the first blog post."

"Well now apparently we've upgraded to kittens. See how that works? He knows we know, and now we know he knows we know, and now we're kittens." He blinks once again at her, again in that deliberate way, and Eunice realizes with some dawning horror that he's trying to wink. And failing. Horribly at it.

"Oh my god are you trying to wink at me?"

He frowns. "Hey, I am winking."

"No, you aren't winking, you are blinking, albeit very deliberately. There's a difference."

He shook his head, waving a hand as if to brush her words away.

"That is not the point! The point here is that we have a chance to show Jones that he should totally keep his kittens. We have to look into this, find what it is, and in the next post he'll, I dunno, give us our marks, level us up, give us some sort of a thumbs up or down! C'mon, we have to try!"

She shook her head, but had to smile at his enthusiasm.

"Okay, how about you find out what Jones is looking for—hey, hey, you're the one with all the theories, I'm still only seeing a blog about kittens—and if you find anything relevant send it my way and Ill make sure it goes to where it'll do the most good. Okay?"

Hank pouted, obviously put out that she was just humoring him, but nodded.

"Fine."

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Ianto was a couple of streets away from his place—and wasn't that a lark, calling it his place? He was just the only one to go into it for the last couple of years, the only one to reach the entrance on the roof—with a case of cheap beers beside him, half of them empty. He'd died recently, and woken up hungry and about 18 or 19 (he was getting better at estimating his age, but he was still a bit iffy with his younger years), and there had been an unguarded truck with a shipment to the Drink Finder's Warehouse, and Ianto had taken advantage. No wine, but he managed to get two cases of beer and used one of the machines locked in the warehouse to pull one of the crates out and hidden with hardly any issue.

It had taken a couple of trips, but he'd gotten a fair collection of brandy, whiskey, rum, and liquor to his Hub-Away-From-Hub.

It had seemed more important at the time to have a stock of alcohol, and while he didn't drink it when he was in a younger body (it didn't seem like much carried over when he died, but he didn't want to take chances), he liked having the option.

Lately, it seemed like he needed it, and as he was in a more-legal body for it, and in a neighborhood where it didn't much matter if you were out and about when you were drinking, well…

So he'd taken a case, climbed with it carefully down the ladder on the fire escape (remembering to push the rusty ladder back up and out of reach; even drunk, he'd be able to get to it, but he'd left the door unlocked on the roof), and here he was.

Ianto wasn't entirely drunk yet, but he was getting there.

Well, he was actually probably more drunk than he thought he was, considering he hadn't moved from where he was sitting for a long time, people-watching from the shadows of the alley, listening to the thumping music coming from a seedy club across the street and a little ways over… but unless he had a reason he wasn't moving.

He didn't think about thugs, because they seemed to develop the policy of shoot-on-sight (a problem that crops up when you have an enemy that knows your death only slows you down a little), and while he never wanted to feel as hungry as he did every time he woke up, if they did shoot him he wouldn't be drunk anymore, and he'd be able to lose them.

Oh, what cheerful thoughts these were …

Ianto shook his head.

(Then decided that perhaps he was a bit more drunk than he thought, from the sluggish, rolling feel of it.)

Always planning, because plans were important even if they usually went to hell.

There was giggling, and a couple who'd almost made it past the alley stopped to make out against the bricks, the man pushing the girl up against the wall. Ianto caught a flash of a pale thigh and the contrast of a garter belt worn too tight.

Ianto took a long swallow from his can, wincing at the taste, and prepared to wait them out.

Thought about the last time he'd had sex, with a man or woman… frowned because of course the last time was with Jack, and Ianto was tired of thinking of Jack.

What did Jack have to do with anything right now? Why did he have to be on his mind all the time if he wasn't even on the same planet? Ianto frowned harder and fiddled with the tab of the can, thinking that he should go and have amazing monkey sex with someone.

Then he wouldn't have to think about Jack and how good at sex he was.

Ianto nodded, and thought he would go out and find someone to fuck or be fucked by… as soon as this couple was done.

That seemed like it was becoming less and less of an option, as it seemed like the couple were really getting into it. The sound of moans reached Ianto, and he laughed aloud at what his life was like.

Nearly at his true age's body, he was sitting on top of a trashcan at the end of an alley, contemplating his lack of a sex life, watching a couple getting their rocks off, and drinking crap beer.

Fantastic.

Just fan-fucking-tastic.

His laugh must've been louder than he thought, because the girl startled and lowered her leg from around the man's waist and pushed him back to look down the alley nervously. So she at least wasn't that drunk.

The man sighed, and Ianto laughed again.

"Oh, don't stop on my account." Ianto laughed, finishing the rest of his beer and going for another can. At least the night air kept them chilled.

He wondered if he would have to actually go into a club to find someone, or if he could just wait on the street—no, no, that made him sound like a prostitute.

Ianto drank more beer.

The girl tugged on the man's arm, shifting at the cold wind and saying something too low for him to hear, and Ianto snorted. Yeah, he bet she was cold. If she didn't have enough alcohol in her system to not mind being caught making out in an alley, she certainly hadn't had enough to be able to ignore the chill winds. Ianto was far enough in the alley to be protected from it, but they certainly weren't.

"What, you want to watch? Maybe hoping to join?" The man called back, and Ianto shook his head at how familiar that voice was. Everything seemed familiar nowadays; it was best not to think about it. Best not to dwell, not really…

The Man's face was in shadow as he walked closer, the girl trailing behind him reluctantly.

One of the stuttering lights that occasionally lit a doorway to the alley lit, and he caught sight of the man's face.

Ianto laughed.

"John Hart?" Seriously? He took another long pull of beer and shook his head, bangs not quite flopping in his eyes. He finds out that Jack left, and then finds bloody John Hart when trying to drown out his feelings.

Fantastic.

He shook his head, wondering what would be blown up this time.

"You know me?" Hart sounded intrigued, and he couldn't help but smile into his beer. The light flashed again before settling into a dim glow, and Ianto saw John's face shift when he caught a look at Ianto's face, and looked down his body before flicking back up, flirty smile.

"You remember me, but I don't quite remember you… which is quite the tragedy…" He sidled closer, body tilted, "as I'm certain I'd remember someone as gorgeous as you," leaning in, making the whole situation seem more intimate.

Of course John Hart manages to make a dingy back alley more intimate. Not by much, mind, but still.

"Johnny…" the girl whined, edging close to John's back.

In the light Ianto saw that he still had his red hussar jacket, sword at his hip, and now that he knew what and where to look for it, still had a couple guns hidden on his person. Probably had more than Ianto can see in the darkness, but he could count three even in the shadows.

Ianto lowered the can from his lips, and raised an eyebrow at Hart. Trying to flirt with him while he had a drunk and willing girl with him?

One who was obviously eager to get to a bed, too…

Was Ianto surprised?

No.

He rolled his eyes, smirking. How could he have expected anything different?

"What—Eye Candy? Is that you?"

That was a surprise, Hart recognizing Ianto as he currently was, and Ianto wondered what had stirred Hart's memory.

Ianto gave an innocent look to the girl, who was by now looking rather put out (put out at Hart not putting out? HAH!) (Oh boy he was a bit more drunk than he'd estimated… he was laughing aloud at that…), and she pouted at him, overly glossed lips sticking out. Ianto refrained from snorting, but only just barely.

She looked moments away from stomping her foot.

(He wondered if that was more difficult to do wearing 4-inch heels)

(Jack would know)

(Shut up)

"Surprised you remembered me," Ianto finished off the can and put it back in the pack. He had three more, and when he pulled out one he raised an eyebrow at John in question. He seemed willing enough to waste time when he could be fucking, so why not give opportunity to waste more time? He didn't care that the girl was looking frustrated; he remembered girls like her from when he was a teen. Willing to fuck around and hurt feelings, but when attention wasn't fully on them, they pouted, whined, got mean…

(Rather like John Hart, really…)

(Rather like Jack, sometimes…)

(Shut up)

He didn't know if she was exactly the type, but no evidence suggested otherwise.

(Like attracts like? Birds of a feather fuck together?)

Gods, he needed more to drink.

(Flock, not fuck. Both worked though.)

He tossed one can to John, and tilted his head at the girl. She scrunched her nose in distaste: of course. Only dirty martinis and pina coladas for her. Any sort of drink that wouldn't look out of sorts to have a little umbrella in it.

He caught John surreptitiously checking his Vortex manipulator, and laughed.

"You're in the right time, don't worry."

John chuckled, teeth flashing in the low light. "Well Eye Candy, you look a bit…"

"Different? Yeah, that's the Rift for you…" He wasn't worried saying this in front of the girl. She'd explain it away herself.

"The rift?" Sure enough, she poked her head around John, momentarily stopping tugging on the back of his jacket, momentarily stopping her glaring and pouting.

"Is that like a club or something?"

"Oh, it's something like that, yeah…" Ianto shook his head and John laughed.

He didn't even like John Hart, but he couldn't deny that it felt good to be joking about something like that with someone who knows. He didn't have Tosh; she was dead; so was Owen, he didn't have Jack; he was off planet, and he didn't know what the hell was happening with Gwen but over the months she'd been working in Torchwood she was much more willing than anyone would have imagined for the shoot-first way of thinking…

(A nasty part of Ianto thought she would have been prime material for Torchwood One.)

He'd died enough, thank you very much, and he wasn't going to make half a dozen sandwiches so that he could maybe try to explain things before she put a bullet between his eyes.

And even then there was no way of knowing she wouldn't shoot him when he woke up again.

(It was actually a bit of a given as he'd wake up different, and he'd never exactly given out his childhood photos…)

He wasn't willing to go through that hunger. Not again.

Never again.

(Never, Never, Never, Never, Never…)

Ianto shook his head, banishing depressing thoughts like that, and took a long swallow of his piss-poor beer. He was just enjoying conversation. When was the last time he'd had an actual conversation?

(One that didn't involve Ianto being shot repeatedly, that is…)

He couldn't recall.

He caught the look Hart was giving him, and thought it over for a moment, running the tip of his tongue over his lips. Caught the way Hart followed the action with his eyes.

Yeah. Sure. Why not?

He set his beer down next to the case of empties, and rolled his shoulders back in a small stretch, noticing how Hart noticed this, and gave a slow smile before standing. Hart had already cracked open his own can, and winced at the taste.

Apparently Hart wasn't nearly as drunk as Ianto thought he was, if the quality of beer was still bothering him.

"Crap beer you got here."

"I've got better stuff at my place."

The girl gave a little shocked sound, and John grinned at the invitation of it.

Ianto didn't feel like doing subtle. Not tonight.

Ianto stepped closer, into personal boundaries, and leaned in further. He could definitely smell the liquor on his breath, and John leaned in a bit further, their misting breaths intermingling.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah." Ianto let the word escape in a throaty breath, the kind that made Jack moan over his accent.

"Hey! I'm right here you know!"

Ianto tilted his head to the side to glance at the girl from over John's shoulder, smirking slightly at the hum of approval this gained from Hart when it bared the long line of his throat for inspection, and raised both eyebrows at her. She was definitely pouting.

Aw, poor baby…

"Oh come now darling, don't tell me you aren't interested in this gorgeous Welshman? Just listen to those vowels…"

(A sudden thought: Did NO alien race have an accent even remotely similar to the Welsh? That made him strangely sad considering how many English accents he'd heard from lost/invading Aliens… Welsh an already a dying language, but the accent goes as well? Rubbish.)

Hart wasn't paying attention to her, though, instead focusing on running his hands lightly up and down Ianto's sides, feeling the soft material of his waistcoat and trailing fingers over the buttons over his belly, teasing…

Ianto saw with some amusement that though she was obviously jealous at the attention Ianto was getting, she was also considering it.

Well then.

Better get that straightened out, as it were.

Ianto pushed lightly on Hart's chest, fingers splayed, and leaned in to kiss him, the frown that had momentarily stolen across Harts face clearing, before he noticed a shine on Hart's lips, and paused.

One hand went to his pocket.

The frown was just reappearing on Harts face when Ianto jerked his head back enough to swipe a handkerchief across Hart's lips. Hart twitched back, but not soon enough.

"What was that for?" Hart seemed more curious than offended (probably due to the lack of immediate effect of any sort of drug), and Ianto held up his dark grey handkerchief for inspection.

"I don't particularly like your brand of lip gloss, sorry."

Hart grinned.

"'S not mine, Eye Candy." He jerked his head back towards the girl, and Ianto shrugged before leaning forward to nip at John Hart's lips. One hand went to the back of Hart's head to pull him in closer. "You should always have a handkerchief, just in case."

(He decided to ignore the whisper of giggles on the wind at his words; faeries could go fuck themselves tonight.)

(He wasn't a kid, why wouldn't they just leave him alone already, bloody faeries)

Hart has an unsurprisingly soft mouth and mobile tongue, and at this point Ianto isn't his full 6 foot self (he still had one more growth spurt to go through for those extra inches), so he doesn't have to lean down far to enjoy it.

John Hart is also, unsurprisingly, an amazing kisser. It's obvious he's intending to kiss Ianto senseless and breathless, but Ianto has had a good amount of experience with 51st century kissing habits, and knows that there are a few things that even John doesn't know about (as evidence from Jack's previously surprised moans).

So Ianto sucks at John's tongue like this, moving his tongue just so, and yes, there's that surprised moan, and Ianto manages to get Hart's back up against the wall.

He's just drunk enough to think this is a good idea, just drunk enough to not care that there's a girl a few feet away, and many more people at the head of the alley, but Jack had awoken an oral fixation in Ianto, and he missed having a cock in his mouth.

"Goddess," Hart panted when Ianto let up on his mouth, kissing and sucking at Hart's neck, rubbing at his hips as he felt around for how to undo them. He felt a few spots that were over warm and slippery on his neck, obviously hickeys already given from the girl, and Ianto nibbled and suckled around those before licking long strips over top.

There was a clasp at the front of his trousers, and Ianto gave the hard cock he could feel under that a good rub before undoing it.

He sucked back up Hart's neck to breath in his ear, letting him feel Ianto's grin against his cheek when he asked "How about a blow job, Johnny?"

"Fuck yeah."

Ianto's hands found Hart's cock (though he supposes he could call him John after this, or during, he wasn't quite sure), and he leisurely stroked it to full hardness while he dropped to his knees. The material immediately went damp, but Ianto didn't much care; they were jeans.

The head was centimeters from his lips when he looked up; eyebrow cocked (hah), and asked, "No diseases I'll have to worry about, yeah?"

John laughed, panting, "Oh Eye Candy, I've got all my vaccinations—ohh…"

Ianto hadn't waited for John to finish saying vaccinations (Jack had explained that fairly early on, the vaccinations kids of the future got against STI's when they hit puberty), instead swallowing down as much of John's cock as he could, one hand stroking what he couldn't reach, and started putting to use all the things he'd learned from Jack. Then, he started using all that he'd learned himself about how to make Jack go crazy, and hazily took note that a good many things also made John Hart go crazy.

John was similar to Jack in that he liked to have his crown suckled at, tongue playing at his foreskin, and enjoyed Ianto turning his head to suck wide swaths of the side of his cock, but seemed to enjoy the skin at the base of his cock played with and stimulated much more than Jack did, and loved it when Ianto hollowed out his cheeks to suck him down.

The heavy weight of his cock was delicious against his tongue, and he tilted his head to run the crown against his palate, humming at the tickle of it.

Both ran their fingers through his hair when he did this, John trailing his nails against his scalp more than Jack, and Jack enjoyed rhythmically tugging at the strands more, and when Ianto stopped for a breather, hand pumping, and rubbed the side of his face with the crown, looking up to make eye contact, both fell apart.

(He did note that it probably wasn't good that he was constantly comparing John to Jack, probably wasn't healthy, but bugger it. He could stand to be a little unhealthy.)

"Oh, oh, Eye Candy, yes, hmmm… Ah…" John kept running his mouth throughout, just as open as Jack when letting him know if he was enjoying himself, and Ianto smirked against the skin of his cock as he reached down to rub himself a bit. The musky smell of John's sex seemed to sink into his pores, 51st century pheromones an old friend by now, and Ianto ignored the hot and now cold trails of pre-cum and spit on his cheeks from rubbing John's cock on his face, and nuzzled into his pubic bone and the neatly trimmed hair there. Stretching his tongue, he managed to clumsily lick at John's balls at the same time, before moving back to suck at John's cock.

"Oh, that is, like, so hot…"

Ianto had honestly forgotten about her, and accidentally ran his front teeth against skin. He pulled off of John's cock with wet suction, giving the possibly abused skin a lick in apology, and glanced to the side.

Her face was flushed and she was squirming where she stood, thighs pressed together and her mouth open like she was waiting for someone to offer to let her have a go.

(How about 'no')

He wondered if he could be more unimpressed with her right then.

"You know, you look, like, just like Ianto Jones!"

Well, apparently he could. He ignored the look Hart was undoubtedly giving him just then. John brought a hand up and rubbed his thumb across his brow.

(Ianto hadn't realized he'd been frowning, but goddamn was it annoying being told that.)

"Where'd you find her?" Ianto asked, giving little kisses and licks up the one side of John's shaft, poking the tip of his tongue at the slit, and rolling his eyes to give the girl an unimpressed look. He pressed one of his hands between his own thighs, both to relieve pressure and warm his fingers; couldn't help glance at her bare thighs and think she must be freezing. However, any sympathy for her was drowned in booze and hormones, so…

He wanted to get fucked, and wasn't terribly interested in fucking a girl right then. He very much didn't want to ever fuck her, in fact, never mind girls in general… And there was no way he was going to bring her to his super duper secret lair; just the thought of her trying to make her way up the fire escape made him grin.

(He imagined her tripping when the spike of her heels sunk into the holes on the steps, and he forces the thought to stop there, before broken bones, before bruises and bleeding and the high possibility of her snapping her neck)

From the way she walked, too, she was certainly no virgin, and while John had his vaccinations, Ianto didn't want to take the fifty-fifty chance that this girl was clean.

Besides, Jackie certainly wouldn't like her.

He almost snorts at the thought, but then does snort at what John says next.

"In a club; Turns out Milley here wants to get rid of that pesky virginity—what?" John didn't sound offended, though Ianto supposed it would be hard (hah!) to sound irritated with the head of his cock being suckled at. He wonders if that snort had given an interesting sensation…

He pulled off to answer, and took a quick glance at the girl: yup.

She was looking more offended than embarrassed, solidifying his hypothesis into fact.

"Not a viiirgiiin..." he sang lightly before sucking John down again. The cold wind that occasionally made it back this far mean that Ianto was having to work harder for John to come, but he enjoyed it. His jaw was only starting to get that slight ache in it, and he could go on for a while longer.

"Hey! I am too!"

Ianto felt a smile tug around his mouthful, but didn't pull off this time.

He'd learned quite a bit from his Tad, and detail was one of those things. His tad could tell someone's measure from their inseam, their cut preference from how they walked, and had worked to make sure Ianto could do the same. This eye for detail meant that, when in high school certain girls started walking around differently, he'd been able to tie together that change with the stories from the locker room to figure things out.

It was a party trick of his he'd managed to keep, and he wanted to laugh at the fact that he was bringing it up when he was back in this age and body.

He slowed down to something more manageable; curious about what John had to say about that.

"Oh, I know, ah, all that…" 'Milley' must have made a face, or some sort of noise at that, because John continued with

"What? You think I can't tell the difference between a virgin and—"

"—a slag?" Ianto sucked John back in, the buzz of alcohol in his system paired with the feeling of a cock in his mouth warming him and dulling his usual ability to keep the less polite thoughts from escaping his mouth. He relaxed his throat and pulled him in to bob there for a few pulls, gaining some satisfying sighs before going back to his sucking.

"Oh, right, says the guy who's like, sucking off another guy in an alley." A hand with too-long nails tugged on the back collar of his jacket, pulling him up and off of John's cock before pulling him close in what he supposed was meant to be a menacing fashion. It would probably have been significantly more threatening if she wasn't a good half-foot shorter, holding him so delicately (presumably so as to not ruin her lengthy nails), and if she didn't seem to translate 'threatening expression' into 'scrunch your face up' in her inebriated state. Ianto stood with the motion and absently wiped the drying pre and spit from his cheeks, and started sucking his fingers clean afterwards.

He felt like he didn't have the brainpower to blush right then, and drying semen was uncomfortable besides.

"Hey, I wasn't done with that!" John actually sounded put out, and wrapped his hands around himself to protect his spit-slick cock from the cold.

"Listen here, bub, you're like, ruining my night, okay?"

(Bub?)

Ianto raised an eyebrow at her; thought process feeling like it was working through water. John stepped forward from the wall, hands still around himself, and Ianto wondered if they'd be up making placating gestures if they weren't full.

"Look, why don't we all just go on with our business, maybe find a nice hotel to shack up in and get over our differences, hmm? Maybe under them as well. Nice and friendly like, no one has to go home without being shagged tonight." His grin was filthy, and Ianto smirked around his index finger. With John's eyes on him, he pulled the digit slowly, absently, from his mouth, licking his lips afterwards.

He was certain they were red by now, and quirked them.

"I don't sleep with liars."

"Eye Candy, I think you're a bit more drunk than I thought…" Ianto knew exactly what it said about John Hart's character that he still looked contemplative, and didn't give a fuck. Milley looked insulted and thoughtful, and Ianto barely restrained himself from making a face at her. He couldn't hold back the urge to roll his eyes though.

He shoved 'Milley' away (what a ridiculous name, it made him think of elderly neighbors calling for their purse-sized dogs), dislodging her overly long nails from where they'd migrated to his sleeve.

"Let me clarify; I don't sleep with bad liars." And he certainly wouldn't willingly sleep with this girl, even if the cure for hunger could only be found through her vagina.

(What a retched thought. Ugh.)

(He thought the phrase 'eating someone out' was now ruined for him forever.)

He moved back to John, and pushed him back up against the wall, ignoring the girl's tugs at his jacket to lean in close, lips against John's ear.

"You know, this body is technically still virgin…" John twisted his neck to look at him, and Ianto smiled before giving John a small peck.

"First time I took it up my arse I was 23, right now I'm about 19 or 20."

In the small pause, Ianto gave him another small peck and mumbled against his lips "The Rift, remember?"

It was obvious that Milley hadn't heard him, but from the suddenly interested and intrigued look on Hart's face must have given her a hint that Ianto offered something… interesting.

"And the first time you fucked?"

Ianto shrugged on shoulder. "17."

"Bit late, that." John's eyebrows were raised.

"21st Century," Ianto reminded him lightly, "And I did other things before that."

Face suddenly determined, Milley stopped yanking on his jacket and said, "I'm up for a threesome."

She said it like it was a challenge.

Look what I'm prepared to do… you gonna back out or, like, what?

Honestly.

Ianto rolled his eyes and picked up John's mostly forgotten can and took a long pull, leaving a bit on his mouth before he dropped to his knees pushed John's hands away, and took him back in his mouth. Held down his hips when they jerked hard into his face.

From the noise John made, Ianto's split-moment decision to experiment worked out, and the taste of crap beer and cock wasn't half-bad.

It was only, like, a quarter bad.

Suddenly tired of this girl being around, Ianto swallowed John down, breathing between each bob and swallow, and it wasn't long before John was panting, and not long after that that John was coming.

He swallowed a mouthful, and part of another, and kept the rest of it in his mouth to share a sloppy kiss with John, using his rather chilly fingers to tuck him back in his pants.

He pulled back far enough to nip John's lips before surging forward to swallow down his groan, then stepping back.

He smoothed down his jacket, shooting Milley a look for possibly tearing the back of it, and tugged at his cuffs to straighten them.

It wasn't the same without his suit, but it was habit now to smooth down his clothing after giving a blowjob. The taste of John's come was heavy in his mouth, and he swallowed convulsively and ran his tongue over his teeth before giving John a short smile.

"That's certainly not a virgin mouth…"

Ianto felt his lips twitch. "I never said that my mouth was virginal." He turned to get his last can of beer, debating opening it now or after the taste of come in his mouth was no longer a novel or nostalgic experience.

"Hey, where're you going?"

Ianto kept the can unopened for now, and turned back to the pair. The girl looked rather dazed, but Hart was frowning. Maybe he was realizing that it wasn't a case of having his cake and eating it too, but more like the choice between a slice of cake and… he looked at Milley again. A cupcake.

"My place or hers." Was all he offered.

"I'm fine with either," said Milley, and Ianto frowned at her before exaggeratedly shaking his head. He'd like to say it was on purpose, but he was drunker than he thought and the action entirely unintentional.

"My place isn't an option for you."

He hadn't thought he could still be a mean drunk, but then again for the past couple of years he was either drinking on his own or with Tosh.

He cracked open the beer and chugged half of it.

You couldn't really be mean around Tosh.

(Not unless you were Owen, bastard.)

"Oooh, Eye Candy, you want me to yourself then? Bit greedy. What was it? 'Caring is sharing'?"

Ianto shrugged and noticed that the flabbergasted look on the girls face really wasn't doing anything for her.

(Gods, he knew he was being mean, but he just couldn't help it. He thought it was the 'looking like Ianto Jones' bit that was bringing it out, but it was equally possible that she really was as much of a twat as he thought she was. )

"I don't care." So no sharing, he continued in his mind, shaking the can in his hand to see how much was left. He'd prefer to get shagged tonight, but he'd already gotten something out of this night, already had the satisfaction of making someone else come with his mouth, and if all he had to look forward to when he got back was liquor, then so be it.

If he didn't die of alcohol poisoning in the night, he would have died of mortification waking up next to John Hart in the morning anyway. He was still hard though, so he pressed his palm against the bulge in his jeans, sighing at the feel of it.

He leaned back against the garbage can and finished off his beer before raising his eyebrows at John Hart.

He was looking between the two of them, and part of him wondered if she'd told him something that was making him hesitate. Maybe she was super flexible (but Ianto could be flexible), or maybe she was willing to take it up the arse (but then, so was Ianto). Or maybe John had just bought her quite a few drinks and he wasn't so willing to let go if his investment.

"Well?"

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

"How drunk are you Eye Candy?"

Ianto led them down the right alley, eyes on the fire escape.

Slowing to a stop, he pushed off the opposite wall to run a few steps off the wall, arms up to catch the bottom rail of the fire escape.

"Not that I'm not up for gymnastics, but what are you—"

Ianto pulled himself up and cut off the rest of what John was saying when he pushed the ladder down. Even oiled, it still rumbled when it came down.

"C'mon then." Ianto made his way up to the roof, hearing the rattle of the ladder coming back up after John, and enjoyed the loose feelings in his joints.

He'd died much more often than he'd thought possible, and had been a variety of ages in the past while, and more often than not he had to deal with growing pains. They weren't fun in the least, and he hoped that he would be able to stay in this age and body stage for a while yet. Not too hard though, because it was likely that in the next day or so, if he went out he would likely get shot again, or poisoned, or will be in an accident that he'll have a hard time explaining away and getting away from.

A hand groped him, and Ianto didn't jump. He did grab the hand when it was going to grab around at his crotch, but that was because if they were doing this they certainly weren't doing this on the roof. He had a perfectly fine bed inside. He had perfectly wonderful heating there as well.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Ianto pushed John down to the bed after pulling him through to his bedroom, and wondered at his life.

Here he was, about to have sex with some… nefarious omnisexual time traveler and…

Well, that was petty much it.

It was certainly enough to wonder at.

He'd had sex with time travelers before—well, mostly the one, or only the one that he really knew of, and Jack could be nefarious after a fashion…

He was definitely wicked, despicable when he was in a teasing mood, infamous and perverse in equal measure, and though he wasn't as close to evil as he always assumed Jack feared he was, he was close to every synonym for nefarious. Synonym was a fun word, and he'd say it aloud if his mouth weren't otherwise occupied.

The word synonymous was even better.

Well, but at least Jack was nefarious in a nice way—oh, but then again, John Hart knew how to do some wicked things with his tongue, and his fingers were just…

Where was he going with that thought process again?

He didn't know, but what did he care when he could be pushing John down to his bed, straddling him, and working that hussar jacket from his shoulders?

He did pause after getting it off though, placing it carefully on the bedside table because he knew it was original, he knew it was delicate in its own way, and he was just that way, okay?

Okay.

Ianto knew he was drunk, knew he was being sloppy with alcohol, but he was also objective enough to know that he was horribly lonely.

You could only surround yourself with kittens for so long before… well. Let's just say that cats couldn't make up for regular human interaction.

Also, Ianto didn't want to be a crazy cat lady.

"Certainly don't look like a lady…" John laughed into a freshly sucked mark on his chest, rolling Ianto onto his back, so Ianto pulled at his hair and ran his nails down his spine and John bit—

"Oh ie ffwcio!"

John groaned, sudden and loud.

"What was that, that was just—"

Ianto grinned and said "Ffyc fi John caled," groaning the words right in his ear, Fuck me now John, and John's hips jerked down against his own in an uncontrolled motion.

"Oh fuck that's good, you're just…"

Ianto didn't know where his trousers went or how John removed his pants without moving from between his legs.

"Cymraeg mewn gwirionedd yn troi chi ar, hmm?"

John just groaned, and Ianto laughed.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

A losing battle, Ianto tried to hold himself in check while John fingered him.

Once he realized this, he gave him a frustrated glare and pushed back.

Damnably, John just grinned like he had all night.

A sore loser, he retaliated by unclenching his jaw and letting the babble that had been contained there loose, knowing at least half of it was in Welsh.

John cussed.

Ianto grinned.

John twisted his fingers just so

Ianto was lost.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

He came to sated and panting, pleasantly sore and the taste of John in his mouth.

He rolled off the bed, ignoring the huff John gave, and got a wet towel. Two glasses, the bottle of pills, a large water bottle, and Vodka. He moved on autopilot, mind still pleasantly buzzed from alcohol and (multiple) orgasm, but still making himself move forward.

Back to the bed to clean up, ignored that John took Ianto wiping him down like it was his due, and he left again to set Mini to defensive mode.

(He may have slept with him, but he in no way trusted John)

(Well, he trusted him for a good fuck)

(Multiple fucks)

(Many, many fucks)

(Ianto wondered if he'd be up for it in the morning)

(Of course he was)

(Many, many fucks)

Back to the bed, crawl over the crumpled sheets, manhandle John ("Hey, what're you—") into position, pull up cleaner bits of sheets and…

John was remarkably good about Ianto forcing a cuddle; all lenient and malleable like Jack after a good shag, good about Ianto shifting until they were both in a comfortable position, and didn't seem to mind that Ianto was using him like a giant teddy bear.

This was one of the reasons why Ianto had been so quick to like Jack when they first started shagging; not even Lisa was so comfortable with Ianto's post-coital cuddling impulse.

(And ouch, ouch, it still hurts)

At least not for long.

Jack had seemed surprised at Ianto's cuddling, like everyone, but had accepted it much more than anyone else had—most could deal with it for an hour at most, or until they're asleep, but they'd inevitably wiggle away at some point.

It's too hot; too sticky; too weird; you're smothering me; I'm just not touchy-feely; Ianto had heard so many reasons, so to find Jack still in his arms the morning after, and looking happy to be there…

Well, Jack Harkness was always the exception.

Later, much later, when Ianto had ventured a cuddle when they hadn't just had sex, Jack had again looked surprised, but had accepted it as well. More than that, it was like that had opened the floodgates, and it was Jack looking for those long moments in return and…

Well, he made Ianto not feel like he was strange enjoying physical closeness like this.

It was entirely possible that, along with being much more open to sex in the future people were also much more used to cuddling, but Ianto hadn't gotten around to asking… it seemed much more likely now, with John breathing into his ear and working himself into a nice sprawl, but Ianto'd been content with accepting that Jack just liked cuddles.

John liked cuddles, too.

Ianto wriggled his way a bit closer, into a bit more of a comfortable position, and hid his face partly in a shoulder, partly in his pillow.

There was a great yawning space just behind his ribs, slightly smaller now, and he knew logically that he was probably lonely… knew that he probably wouldn't have even thought about sleeping with John Hart if he wasn't, but for now he was happy to just hold someone close.

Even if that someone was John Hart.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Owen frowned at the results.

He'd set up a dozen blood samples to be analyzed over night, and the results should be showing…

Well, it should bloody well be showing something different!

He pulled one sample towards him, and placed a drop on one slide.

Under the microscope the cells were doing what they were supposed to do. Normal—

No. Wait. What was…

He pulled another sample and put it on a separate slide, checked that one: the same.

Frowning, he pulled another towards him, and checked that sample.

And again.

And again.

"Fuck."

Either the team who got the samples at the site were complete idiots, or…

Or something really fucking weird was going on with Jonesey.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Ianto woke at his usual time—at his internal alarm clock thank you very much—to a warm weight at his back and chest hair in his face. He shifted, slightly, and the warm weight at his back was soft, furry, and damn, he should probably get up and get some water for Jackie's kittens, shouldn't he? They were starting to understand that the water was for them, and though they still randomly knocked the bowl over and played in it

He flexed again, rotating his shoulders in a small stretch, ended up grinding slightly into John's hip, and felt an answering grind back.

He turned his head and sought out the glowing numbers on the clock beside his bed.

Just before six. He let out a breath.

He should also probably kick John Hart out, and get back to working out the security on Warehouse #1 (the first of the many he would have to break into in the upcoming weeks), and the best way to get in and out and alternative routes and…

"Oh hello beautiful." The chest under his cheek shifted.

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut.

"You aren't allowed to have sex with my cat."

Gwen had told him about the poodle.

The chest lifted and fell in a short burst, and a huff of breath ruffled his hair.

"Well, your cat seems to be glaring at me anyway. She's absolutely gorgeous though…"

There was a growing hardness at Ianto's hip, and he felt Hart shift, reach…

The soft warmth at his back left, and he heard Jackie hit the ground to stalk away.

Another huff, and Ianto grinned and lifted himself to be able to look at Hart's face.

"She doesn't much like to be pet by strangers."

Hart pouted. "Oh c'mon, I wasn't going to do anything…"

Ianto shifted so he could press his hips down against Hart's.

It was probably a bad idea, but…

"You sure about that…?"

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

"Oh, that is beautiful," Hank breathed, staring at the information in front of him.

He'd said that Jones was brilliant, but he hadn't even begun to imagine that he could be like this.

He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. He'd stayed up 'til the early morning to find it, but oh was it worth it.

He pulled the information all together, and made sure his tracks were properly covered, and sent the lot to Eunice's secured address.

Took all night, but I found this. Your Turn.

Sherry woke up about then, and didn't even complain about having to usher him to bed. He had the best wife ever.

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

After his impromptu morning exercises,

(Many, many fucks)

and a bit more cuddling through the afterglow, Ianto got up to refill the water dish for the kittens. As usual, he did the mental calculations for how much longer until they'd be weaned, until he would have to find kitten-friendly food…

Well, he still had a month or so before they were fully weaned, and he'd have to check if he should start offering them solid food before that.

He didn't bother getting dressed—he needed a shower, and he was so beyond being body shy—and felt Hart's eyes on him from the bed as he moved.

"If you want a shower you'll either have to share or deal with cold water—"

Ianto cut himself off at the look he got from Hart.

Of course. He rolled his eyes, ignored Hart's eyebrow waggle, and headed for the bathroom.

"Come on then."

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

When Tosh made it to Gwen and Rhys' house, she was clutching her laptop close to her chest, practically floating.

Owen was already there, and though it worried her somewhat to see the worried look on his face, she knew her news would clear that some. Hopefully.

"Good news, I take it?" Gwen asked. Tosh nodded and took a moment to appreciate the sight of a very pregnant woman expertly cleaning a gun, a book on baby mannerisms open beside her.

She sat down at the desk Rhys had placed a little ways off from the bed (and he was being such a good sport about all this wasn't he? Gwen was lucky to have him), and turned the screen to the other two once the footage was up.

"Yes, I found the CCTV footage for the area, and though someone tried to delete the footage… well." She allowed herself a small, smug smile. "I'm working on tracking the people who tried to delete it, but for now what I have is this."

They watched the footage of an unmarked van—"Bloody Typical…"—pulling up to the warehouse, and a group of men carrying a small form between them. The grainy image didn't show much detail, but they had to assume that it was Ianto. He'd obviously been knocked out.

"This confirms the timeline, and it was a little more than a week before I could find this," she changed the CCTV camera's perspective, and pointed to the bottom corner. "I almost missed this. But look."

She froze the frame and pulled the image forward, enlarging it and making it significantly clearer. And there was a very young looking Ianto. Baby-cheeked and curly haired, a bit of a manic look about his eyes, but the cheekbones, the forehead… It was definitely Ianto.

Tosh beamed at the two. "He's alive."

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

John dug into the breakfast Ianto made, moaning and groaning like he was still having sex—

Ianto checked under the table to make sure Jackie wasn't under there.

—while Ianto nibbled on his own food and cleaned up.

He didn't have much of a hangover, just a slight ache behind his eyelids and a startling case of cottonmouth… regardless; he wasn't quite in the right state of mind to continue where he left off with planning.

And, he thought, I have to get rid of Hart.

He didn't even know why Hart was still there—he'd thought that he'd be gone in the middle of the night, or after shower sex, or…

Perhaps he'd leave after he'd finished eating.

Ianto made a small face. Gods, he hoped Hart wasn't planning on hanging about.

"I hope you aren't back in Cardiff to cause trouble…" Ianto said.

Hart licked egg yolk off his fork and smirked.

"Oh c'mon, you aren't still sore about last time, are you? Well," he stopped to lavish a grin his way, eyes lingering on how his sweat pants hung on his hips, "sore in a bad way I mean…"

Ianto gave him a flat stare.

"Hey, I was strong-armed into helping Grey! And I came back to help!"

Ianto tilted his head in acquiescence, giving him that. Then raised an eyebrow at him because he still hadn't said if he was up to trouble. Not that Ianto thought he would say so in so many words, but he thought he could probably figure out what's bull from what's not.

Hart waved a hand in his direction dismissively.

"Been checking out the sights and sounds… what? Last couple of times I've been here I didn't get the chance to take in the city! Besides, everyone's always randy after a disaster. All for celebrating being alive, makes people much more open if you get what I mean." He winked and took a long sip of coffee.

Ianto stared.

"…Disaster?"

"Volcano day… by the Goddess this is good…"

He felt a sharp spike of anger—

He knew, he knew about the 456, knew that this would happen, knew and didn't tell them, the bloody bastard, fucking

Before reigning it in. Felt his nails dig grooves into his palm, and forced himself to breathe.

"Right."

John Hart was used to doing things as a Time Agent. Ianto understood enough from what Jack had told him that some things were fixed events, they would happen one way or another, and it was going to happen. The deal made in 1965 made sure of that.

Ianto sighed, and turned his thoughts to what he should get to doing. He still needed to work on his Warehouse #1 problem, and he should probably check into what Torchwood is doing right then—last he'd checked they'd sent most of UNIT back to their HQ—and he had to find the time to see what was up with Tyra Shaw…

He frowned. He should also probably start looking for homes for the kittens. He could deal with them now, he could deal with having one cat and six bundles of fluff, but he didn't think he could handle 7 cats. And he didn't like the idea of just giving them away to just anybody… he had to make sure they'd be going to a good home, which of course meant more research…

He blinked when a warm palm slid up the back of his neck, and an even warmer body pressing up along his side.

"Now then Eye Candy," Hart murmured, "You've got me all fed and watered, and I don't think I've had a chance to explore all the, ah, possibilities presented here, so why don't we…"

Hart did that thing with his fingers again, and Ianto relaxed back into it.

Well, he could focus on that later…

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Owen frowned and pulled out a USB. Gesturing, Tosh gave up command of her laptop easily enough, and he pulled up the results of his tests.

"This is what I found looking through Ianto's blood samples… because they are all, actually, from the bloke." He then pulled up another file, and placed it right next to Ianto's.

"This," he said, "is what it's supposed to look like."

Tosh and Gwen looked between the two, and Gwen had the thought that it would be much better if they could see this on the big monitors at the Hub, but until she gave birth (Hallelujah her due date was within the week!) she was banned from the area.

Ianto's results looked very different from the results Owen said they should look like.

Tosh pointed at Ianto's blood cells. "What's happening here?"

The cells looked almost jumpy, shifting, sometimes bulging or deflating in increments. It actually looked rather alarming… Tosh didn't know much about blood, but she didn't think they should be doing something like that.

Owen sat back in the rolling chair with a sigh.

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. I haven't seen blood cells do anything like this before, but as far as I can tell, what they're doing is refusing to fucking act like bloodcells!"

At their startled looks he sighed, aggrieved.

"Whatever the fuck happened to Tea Boy in that warehouse, it's done something to his system. His fucking blood cells aren't all showing the same fucking age, and they're sticking around for five fucking times as long and fuck if I know what the fuck it means."

.-~-~-~~-~-~.

Thanks again to Randompersonofdoom for Podficcing AIWU and also for dealing with my flailings while writing, and also for giving me a laugh for how much she thought I was going to angst up the first chapter. I know I've set a precedent, but that was preset angsting that you should already know about through having watched the series. That's the thing about shoving three seasons into one chapter.

But thanks :) And I'm SO looking forward to chapter 4 XD

Also this is me giving the bird to you're a-hole classmates and ridiculously invasive peers…

*gives bird*

*Watches bird fly away due to A-holes and invasive pricks not being awesome enough to entertain bird*

*Watches bird be majestic as fuck while heading to Rpod instead*

*Watches podbuddy laugh at inside jokes*

On a side note, CONGRATS to all the high school graduates!

NOTES!:

Drink Finders Warehouse is the equivalent of the LCBO in Ontario? SAQ of Quebec? Correct me if I'm wrong :D I'm looking at you Fionrose ;) You've been so helpful (and I say that with absolutely no sarcasm, I feel I should mention, because this is a thanks through text and thanks like these are very hard to get across like this without sounding sarcastic and a weird mix of annoyed and teasing) with the Brit Picking (thank you thank you thank you :D), so really, don't hesitate in letting me know if my research is ineffective :) (again, no sarcasm)

Also, I'm going to eventually go back and change it, but dumpster=skip. A shank or to shank someone is a small, think knife, and a threat to stab/cut/slash someone with said knife. No clue what the brit-picked-equivalent is.

Oh, and I feel like I should mention something… Someone (Hello you anonymous reviewer you, I can't respond if you aren't logged in!) mentioned that she doesn't know how I write such long chapters consistently, and I feel like I should remind everyone that this isn't just me going on a writing spree and deciding to post at ALL AT ONCE BWAHAHA—no. This is me being like "how about some consistency here?" 10k/chapter, and it means that if I don't post for a while, or experience some writers block, when I do post next it won't be a teeny weeny chapter with promises for more soon.

Hell, the reason why I have this chapter up so soon was because while I was freaking out about the first chapter and making sure there was enough of a recap to bring everyone back to the same page, I was taking my frustration out by writing what I already knew would be happening.

Actually, I think I had the Ianto/Hart bits written out about… oh, around chapter 4/5 of AIWU? But then it needed editing, and I needed to make sure that I wasn't writing a drastically different Ianto, and yeah, I know I sometimes have problems with my tenses and the damnation of teh, nad, eth (WHY IS IT A WORD?), from vs. form, and so/to/of/whatever turning out as o and WORD WHY CAN'T YOU CATCH THIS SHIT!?

But back to what I was actually talking about, I'm really happy that this is working out, and that I'm actually managing to write a consistent 10k at a good pace, and that you guys aren't waiting months and months for each chapter…

So thanks to the weird amount of anonymous reviewers for AIWU, and huzzah for writing style and how I've apparently moved all the suspense from my other stories to this one, and… yeah.

THANK YOU ALL!

Sorry for the lengthy note, but—OH! One more thing.

If you aren't particularly fond of my three OC's, then go ahead and skip over their parts. I'm not saying you won't be missing any BIG plot points, or that you won't be missing out on little plot points, but there'll be enough in all other parts of my story for you to be not ENTIRELY confused at the end of it.

Only a little.

My OC's aren't going to take over the story, they DO have a purpose in both the short and long run, and personally I kind of like them. I know it's probably because they're my characters, but… *shrugs*

No clue when the next chapter will be up, because I have less than half written out right now.

Cheers!

~Doodled93~