othercaptjack | (no subject)

(no subject)

[OOC: The morning after this.]

Jack is wearing a different shirt the next morning, so presumably he changed at some point - but there is no other evidence that he had slept or stopped reading through files at all. But he's in his office as the sun comes up, sitting back in his chair and making scathing notes all over one of Owen's medical writeups. He might feel bad about that at some other time.

Apart from the soft hum of the computers, the rest of the hub is quiet, most of the lights still off.

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Ianto wakes up slowly.

It's not the first time he's slept in the Hub, but still it takes a moment to get oriented--couch, desks, lights.

And there is the fuzzy feeling in his head to deal with.

He sits up carefully and takes his time making sure he's steady before even trying to stand.

Up the stairs, Jack has put the medical files to one side and is frowning over one of Tosh's enthusiastically incomprehensible hypotheses. Something about the computers and increasing productivity - maybe he'll talk with her about the possible risks first, but he doesn't see why not.

He sighs slightly, and makes a note.

Ianto trudges through the Hub and up the stairs. In the locker room he's got a change of clothes, and he suspects a shower will help with the fuzzy feeling in his head almost as much as his first cup of coffee.

Which can't come too soon, either.

Jack pauses for a moment as he hears the other man's footsteps outside his office, losing his train of thought. He considers going out to meet him briefly before deciding against it. He's bad anough at disciplinary talks in any case, without losing the desk and office.

Besides, making Ianto wait may be cruel, but it is also as effective as shouting, something he doesn't really want to do.

He turns back to his papers, but keeps listening for movement in his direction.

Ianto sees Jack at his desk and pauses.

He takes a deep breath, and then changes direction to Jack's office door.

"Sir," he says simply. "Anything--anything I should know today?"

Jack looks up with a slight tilt of the head.

"Nothing immediate, unless an alarm sounds," he says. "Anything I should know? How's your head?"

"I'm fine, sir." He bows his head a moment. "I'll be better after some coffee.

"I'm sorry about last night. You know how things seem like a good idea until you actually, well, do them."

"Yeah, I know," says Jack, voice as dry as a bone.

"Might want to look at where you do them as well, if there's a next time."

Jack's expression, cool as it is, suggests he really, really hopes not.

"Yes, sir," Ianto says quietly. "There won't be a next time."

"I hope not," Jack says quietly. "Because while whatever you do on your own time is your own business, anything you do here is mine, too. I don't like interfering with what other people choose to do to themselves, but if I have to, I will."

He feels like such a killjoy.

"In the interests of that... If you're having a hard time - with anything - I want you to know you can talk to me," he continues, then smiles slowly. "I guarantee, you can't shock me."

Ianto nods again. "Yes, sir."

He starts to go, then turns back to Jack. "Is now a good time?"

Jack tries not to visibly perk up.

"If it is for you, it is for me," he says, setting aside his papers. This has to be good. Right? "Come and sit down, Ianto."

Ianto sits, and spends a moment fussing with the now-ruined crease in his trousers.

"That's not the first time I've had pot, of course," he says eventually. "Just the first time in a while. I'm finding--" He pauses, takes a breath, "I'm finding myself a bit . . . at sea.

"I've been trying not to let it effect my work but obviously I'm failing."

Jack rests his chin in one hand as he listens.

"I can understand that," he says eventually. "Feeling at sea, I mean. I'm... not sure there is any instant cure for that."

Although if Ianto finds one, Jack may never rest until he tells him what it is.

"For coping in the mean time, though, I think we need to find you a more healthy outlet. Once in a while, drugs can be fun. But when you're trying to escape something, it's-" Jack's expression twists slightly, and focuses on the table. "It's too easy to cling to."

"I'm not going home and smoking weed every night if that's what you think," Ianto says, a little wearily. "I'm probably drinking too much and not sleeping enough and when I do sleep it's with people I probably shouldn't."

"That's a good start," Jack says, because his definition of 'okay' is not the same as other people's.

"It... It's going to take time. Whatever way you choose. But whatever helps you keep going, don't get to rely on it. That way leads addiction, and that never ends well, and while I am the original advocate of casual sex, just-" Jack blinks at himself and waves a hand in a manner that would be awkward on anyone else. "Be careful. Don't let coping become everything to you. Grieving hurts, but it's better than a lot of alternatives."

Ianto is quiet a moment.

"Did Tosh tell you what she heard from me through the pendant? She told me. She--she apologized. For not knowing I felt a way I hardly know I feel."

Jack shakes his head slowly.

(It was like you were... I don't know... dead.)

"She didn't tell me, no. But that's like her."

Poor Toshiko.

Edited 2008-07-17 23:31 (UTC)

"Yeah," Ianto says quietly. That is like Toshiko.

"Eaten up from the inside by pain," he says with a little nod as if to say, yeah, it's melodramatic and emo and guess what? Also true.

"If I'm carrying that around with me, Jack, how do I--I mean, can a person get over that? Or is it too much to hope for?"

"Get over?" Jack says, musing.

"I don't know that's right. I don't think you'll ever reach a point where Lisa's death doesn't matter to you any more, or doesn't hurt. But pain does grow less in time. I can promise that, at least."

Ianto makes a sound that could be called a laugh if you're being generous. "I know. I know. But knowing it and actually feeling it . . . the only time I don't feel it is when I'm not thinking at all."

"Yeah," Jack says softly. "That's the temptation."

"So I'm screwed," Ianto says, his tone exhausted. "Either I lose myself in coping or I just wallow in grief. Good to know."

He pushes himself to his feet. "I need a shower."

"I didn't say that," Jack says as Ianto stands. "Coping doesn't have to be destructive. Shouldn't be, in fact."

Then he shrugs. "Go on. You'll feel better."

"And what do you do, Jack?" Ianto says, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Jack raises an eyebrow for a moment, then decides that, okay, he can allow Ianto that one.

"Me? I have Torchwood. It's working out better than drink did."

He says that now, but Torchwood's killed him far more often than drink has. (About 80:1, actually.)

Ianto looks around the Hub and for a moment his eyes look a little damp.

He blinks it away.

"Saving the world," he says quietly. "And isn't being a hero as addicting as anything I'm doing?"

"Oh, entirely," Jack says with a ghost of a grin - whatever else, Jack Harkness will always love drama - then it fades as he regards Ianto levelly over the desktop. "But that's... that's not all Torchwood is to me. You should know that."

"And what else is it?"

Knowing Jack, it could be anything from his zoo to his fiefdom.

Jack just smiles at him, slowly but with a strange warmth that isn't just his normal flirting or bravado.

"You really don't know what about it means so much to me?"

Maybe he's teasing a little, but it's something, a light-hearted change of subject.

"No," Ianto says, now with curiosity. "I don't."

Jack laughs, looking up at the ceiling briefly, then back down.

"All right then," he says, and leans forward, lacing his fingers conspiratorially. "I love people, Ianto. And as you may have noticed, I am extremely selective with who I hire, and I try never to give up on them once I have. You keep me going. You keep me wanting to keep going, and you make it worth it."

He tilts his head, entirely unembarrassed, and smiles lopsidedly. "Even with the occasional misstep. Makes getting back on the right track all the better."

Ianto's impassive face melts a little into what could be--it's small--almost nonexistent if you don't know what to look for--yes, it actually is a smile.

"Oh," he says simply. "Good."

"Glad we understand each other," Jack says, sitting back again cheerfully.

"And now you are overdue a shower. And probably whatever caffeine infusion you like to start your day with. Go. You'll feel a thousand times better."

"Yes, sir," Ianto says, feeling something that resembles cheer himself, and leaves Jack's office.

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