They were avoiding themselves, which amused them all slightly.  At least two of them hadn’t quite worked out the logistics of what was happening, but Tosh couldn’t be arsed to explain yet again.  The breakfast Jack had sprung for was a lavish affair and, after a long, difficult shift, there was more eating than conversation going on.  Or at least there was until Jack nipped off to the loo.

“We all okay with this?” Owen asked.  “Jack waltzing in and taking over again?”

Tosh mmmed approvingly, Gwen fell into thoughtful mode, and Ianto smiled privately to himself.

“You must be happy,” Tosh smirked at Ianto, poking his calf with her toes.

“Could have done without the homicidal ex, but…  Yes.  I think so.”

Gwen carefully put down her cutlery and cleared her throat.

“Ianto…  I don’t want to rock any boats, but…  Jack told me he came back for me.”

Ianto nodded.

“I know.”

“You do?” Gwen asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Ianto chuckled.  “He said.  He expected to be some sort of hero, saving you from the horrendous life he’d allowed you to be sucked into, and there you were, coping marvellously without him, engaged and moving on.  He was quite put out.”

Gwen slumped in relief and renewed her attack on her food.

“That’s all right then.  I didn’t want him mucking you about.”  She started to giggle.  “He did seem a bit thrown.”

“He told me that too,” Toshiko said, “that he came back for me, to…umm…  Can’t really remember, to be honest, he should have chosen his moment better, I was very busy.  I expect it was something nice though.  I’ll give him credit for that.”

They looked to Owen.

“Yep, me an’ all.  Apparently he’d neglected my emotional welfare, before he left.  Of course I agreed, and I managed to guilt a pay rise out of him.  Any of you think to…?”  He glanced around the table to take in three shaking heads.  “You lot are such amateurs.”

Toshiko turned back to Ianto.

“He really came back for you, didn’t he.  He told you first, in front of us all.  Just for a minute it was like he’d forgotten we were there.”

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“What’s the betting he thinks he covered that rather well.”

“We could form a band,” Owen suggested.  “Ianto and the Afterthoughts.”

“What did he tell you?” Gwen asked.  “Why he’d come back for you.”

The humour on Ianto’s face slowly faded, to be replaced by guarded affection at the thought of Jack’s earlier approach.

“He asked me out.  Said he’d been thinking about me while he’d been away.”

Owen gave a humorous snort.

“Yeah, I bet.  I probably need to strap up his wrist.”

“Something happened to him.  Something bad.”

Ianto’s tone was such that they all fell silent for a moment.  A long, uncomfortable moment.

“What kind of bad?” Gwen eventually asked.

Ianto shrugged.

“I don’t know.  Just…bad.  Sometimes, for all his secrecy, I can read him like an open book.  He’s been hurt and…”

“Hope that’s me you’re talking about,” Jack brightly interrupted them, taking his seat and reaching for the toast rack.

“Naturally,” Ianto said smoothly.  “Captain Jack Harkness: mad, bad, and dangerous to know?  Discuss.”

Jack laughed and sat back in his chair, studying his team one by one, so happy to be with them that his heart was pounding furiously in his chest.  Ecstatic to see them safe and whole after witnessing their terrible fates during twelve indescribably horrific months that had thankfully been wiped out of time; forever wounded by the knowledge that he’d been the cause of their torturous deaths.  He’d promised himself that they’d never know of the unimaginable cruelty and depravity inflicted on them because of their association with him, and he’d especially never divulge what it had cost him to helplessly witness their suffering.  This unbreakable man had come so close to being irreparably broken it didn’t bear thinking about.

And now…  Now he was profoundly moved by their unflinching faith and unanimous acceptance of him, despite the way he’d deserted them.

The team used their food to ignore his unsubtle attention, minds dwelling on the perplexing ‘something bad’, and quite able to guess – because this was Jack Harkness, self-imposed protector of Earth – who he’d suffered for.  The growing silence screamed to be broken, and eventually Toshiko found the courage to look up and meet Jack’s watery eyes.  The connection they’d forged in 1941 could not be shattered by time or torture or insane Time Lords, and her smile overwhelmed him as she picked up her glass.

“A toast,” she proposed.

Without hesitation, glasses of Bucks Fizz were raised around the table.

“Torchwood?” Jack suggested hoarsely.

Toshiko dismissed that with a brisk shake of the head.

“Welcome home, Jack.”

The message was sincerely echoed by three other voices, and Jack let the tears fall.