Sat at his desk, Jack was aware of footsteps approaching, immediately recognising them as Ianto’s.  He placed the photographs he’d been studying back in their usual home, but found it harder – impossible, even – to tuck away so easily the feelings the day had roused.  The footsteps came to a halt just inside the office door.

“All right?” Ianto asked, his voice full of strained warmth.

“Sure,” Jack replied flatly.  “Perfect end to a perfect day.”

There was a protracted pause as both men considered the last twelve hours.

“Jack…” Ianto began quietly.  “Can you move on now?”

“What do you mean?”

“This thing with Gwen…”

“What thing, there is no thing,” Jack snapped dismissively.

“Yes.  Looks like it.”

“You don’t understand, and it’s too difficult for me to explain.”

Still preoccupied, Jack missed Ianto visibly bristle at that, missed him make himself be reasonable.

“So it goes on?” Ianto asked.  There was no response at all from Jack, not so much as a blink.  “What about Rhys?”

“This is nothing to do with Rhys.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s her husband.”

“It’s nothing to do with him, it’s nothing to do with—”

Ianto waited several seconds before grimly finishing that for Jack.

“Me.  Nothing to do with me.”  The amenable manner Ianto had so carefully manufactured gradually slid away; he leant against the wall and sighed deeply.  “I’ve been making excuses for you, you know, forcing myself to turn a blind eye.  Now you’re telling me…  Rather, you’re not telling me…  Ah, sod it, on consideration, I don’t want to know.  I’m going home.”

“It’s not what you think,” Jack insisted before Ianto could move.

Ianto stared at him, outwardly serene, but his eyes were harder now.

“Really?  What do I think?”

Jack finally turned toward Ianto, confusing him with a look of pure, unguarded affection.

“You think I want Gwen but, because I can’t have her, I’ve been using you as some kind of second-best substitute.”  Ianto cocked an eyebrow; Jack waited but Ianto said nothing.  “Isn’t that what you think?” he pressed.

“It’s what I think now.  Thanks for that, Jack.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m tired, I’m going home.  We can talk about this another time, or, better still, we can not talk about it ever again.”

Ianto’s true feelings were masked by his superbly controlled tone: the shutters had come down and Jack abruptly realised he was in danger of being left on the outside for good.  He chased after Ianto and caught up with him halfway to the cog door.

“Ianto…  There’s something I need to tell you.”

Ianto groaned.

“Not now.”  He leant in and placed a gentle, farewell kiss on Jack’s mouth, and when he stepped away Jack caught a momentary glimpse of pain before his expression reset to neutral.  “I won’t be in tomorrow.”  He glanced at his watch.  “Today,” he corrected.  “I won’t be in today, and tomorrow we’ll go back to being colleagues, and that’s it; I’ve had enough.”

As Ianto turned to go, Jack grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

“You’re going to listen.”

Teeth gritted as he fought to retain his temper, Ianto pried Jack’s hand away.

“Give me some space and a little belated respect and I won’t be difficult.”  Ianto shoved away the hand that was, once again, reaching for him.  “Keep this up I’ll find ways to make your life hell.”

“But it’s—  Hey, wait a minute.  Why won’t you be difficult?” Jack asked with a peeved frown.  “I’m not worth being difficult over?”

“Nothing about you makes up for the humiliation, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“No, that isn’t…”

“In any case, it doesn’t matter now.  We simply need to be professional.”

Jack gestured for more.  Nothing.

“That’s it?  Cold professionalism is all that’s left?  Don’t I mean anything to you?”

Ianto stared at Jack in amazement.

“How did you manage to make me the villain in this?”

“You’re dumping me!”

“And what the fuck do you—”  Ianto caught his breath.  “I will not get angry.  Not over this, not…”

“Over me?  Yeah, get angry, throw a few punches.  Get this stupid nonsense out of your system and then we can talk.”

Knowing he was being deliberately provoked made it easier to Ianto to regroup.  He straightened his jacket and held his head high.

“But you don’t want to talk.  It’s too difficult, remember?  Plus, as it’s nothing to do with me…”

“Ianto…”

“I’m going.  I’ll be back on—  No, I’ll take a week.  Compassionate leave.  How funny is that?”

Before Ianto could reach the door Jack had used the computer in his wrist strap to lock it.  When Ianto realised that all the button pushing and persuasion he could muster weren’t going to move the cog he spun around, drawing his gun and aiming it at Jack’s groin.

“Want to bleed to death very horribly and painfully?  I have just the thing.”

“Come with me,” Jack barked, already moving back to the office.

Ianto blinked hard.

“Well.  That worked a treat.”

Tightening the grip on his gun he followed Jack.

“Look at this,” Jack instructed the moment Ianto was inside the door, waving what looked like an old photograph in Ianto’s direction.

Curiosity really would kill this particular cat; Ianto laid down his gun and took the picture from Jack’s hand.  He studied it for several minutes.  It was an early twentieth century wedding portrait.  Jack’s wedding portrait.  Oddly enough, the idea of Jack being married didn’t faze Ianto at all, he was too busy being captivated by Jack’s unchanged features.

“You look good,” Ianto eventually said, tidily concealing everything he really wanted to say about commitment and lost chances.  “Nice suit.”

“The bride, Ianto, the bride.”

“Unfortunately, these days, I’m all about the groom.”  Ianto touched Jack’s face in the photograph, then looked up to wistfully admire the real thing.  The past meant nothing compared to the present, and the present was in the process of hurting like hell.  “You bastard,” he whispered miserably.  “How could you…”

“No,” Jack promised, furiously shaking his head.  “No, I promise you, no.”  Taking a risk – the gun was still pretty handy – Jack warily put an arm around Ianto and, even more warily, drew him close, pressing a long kiss to his cheek.  “You only have to forgive me for being clumsy and inconsiderate and self-absorbed, nothing worse.  I’ll get us both a drink, and then I’ll explain.”

“Explain what?  Gwen reminds you of your wife, is that it?”

Jack poured them both a brandy and handed Ianto’s over, persuading him into the chair at the desk.  Ianto sipped his drink and dismally waited for the explanation that Jack seemed to think was going to miraculously put things right.

“Okay,” Jack began when he’d mentally composed what he wanted to say.  “This is…  Like I said, it’s difficult.  Bear with me.”  Ianto nodded; Jack sat on the edge of the desk, close enough to reach out and touch Ianto.  But no touching, not until Ianto understood.  “I was married shortly before the first world war.  I fought for this country, I went abroad, I…  That doesn’t matter.  What matters…”  Jack took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly; he drained his glass.  “You know how things happen to me, I got embroiled, I was away for so long without being able to contact her.  When I finally managed to make my way home…”  Jack’s voice broke; he stood and wandered as he fought to regain his composure.

“This can wait, can’t it?” Ianto said softly, empathy having well and truly kicked in.  “You’re obviously upset after the wedding, we should…”

“I’m not giving up, not on us.”

“No, I…  We obviously need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be now.”

“When I got home,” Jack abruptly pushed on, “I discovered that my wife…  My wife had died.  Some…undefined fever.  All there was left of that part of my life was finding an unmarked grave, arranging a headstone, and…nothing more.  She was gone; I had no choice but to live on.  Alone again.”

Despite being willing to shoot Jack shortly before, Ianto was unable to witness such sadness and not act.  He rose and went to Jack, enveloping him in a silent, consoling hug that was returned tenfold.  Several minutes passed before Jack reluctantly loosened his hold, and gave Ianto a brief, semi-reassuring smile.

“Come home with me,” Ianto offered.  “You don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“There’s more.”

“You’re Jack Harkness, there’s always more,” Ianto acknowledged, and this time Jack’s smile was wider and more genuine.  But short-lived.  Jack returned to the photograph.

“When I left, I didn’t know my wife was pregnant – too early, even she wouldn’t have known.”

Ianto looked completely surprised for a moment.  Then,

“Puerperal fever,” he said absently.

“Maybe.”

“You had a child?  That must have been—”  Ianto found himself struggling for words.  “Did the child live?  When did you find this out?”

“He did live.  I found out completely by accident, long after he was dead.”

“When you say ‘by accident’…?”

“A pendant I’d given his mother, a deep blue sapphire.  I designed the setting myself, it was unique.  About…a year or so ago, I saw someone wearing it.”

“Locally?”  Jack nodded.  “And you were able to trace the person you’d seen wearing it?”

“That particular person, their people.  I traced them and the pendant.”

“All the way back to your wife and son?”

“The pendant stayed in the family, it was never sold.  I’ve studied the genealogy, I’ve gone through every available record.  I’m quite sure.”

“It stayed in the family,” Ianto repeated, almost breathless with excitement for Jack.  “Your son had a family.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Jack…  That’s wonderful, you have a family, a family here.  You’ve been so lonely but it turns out you have a family.”

“Who can’t ever know that great granddad is still around.”

Ianto frantically thought and settled on the obvious solution.

“You could be your own descendant, I could easily falsify whatever records you need.  You could meet them.”

Immersed in bittersweet memories, Jack gave a slow, melancholy shrug.

“I lied to her.  Our wedding day, and I lied to her.”

“About?”

“I thought I was protecting her, but…  For my own ridiculous reasons I was never honest about my name.  Or this name.  Any name.”

“I can work around that.”

“Ianto…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No?” Ianto repeated despondently.

“I have to stay on the outside.  I don’t get to have a family – this family.”

“But why?”

“Because today…  Yesterday.  Because yesterday…I gave away my great granddaughter.”

Ianto appeared to stop breathing as that sank in.

“Your—”  He found and finished his drink.  “Your—”

In the recesses of his mind Ianto vaguely remembered Toshiko commenting on an unusual necklace of Gwen’s.  A sapphire.  A deep blue sapphire.  Struck dumb, he turned his best what the fuck expression on Jack.

“Precisely,” Jack sighed, and poured them both another brandy.