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"Give Rhys my love, and I will see you tomorrow."
She gathered herself together and walked through the cog door, Jack's words roiling through her mind every bit as much as they'd done when they'd parted. Such a sweet sentiment, delivered with such angry hurt, with tears kept so fiercely in check, that she'd almost felt guilty. Almost. The man was insufferable, he really was, always shouting and ordering her about and telling her to "Go home!" And there he was, telling her to retcon her fiancé, who'd just got himself shot trying to help her team—Jack's team. Well, her, at any rate. But she was part of Jack's team, right?
"But we understand how you feel—"
"No, you don't. No, you don't, Jack! You all think it's cold and lonely out there, but it's not for me, because I've got him. He matters!"
Of course, Jack couldn't possibly understand what it was like for her—really, none of them could—always having to balance home and work, having to put on a good face for Rhys after a night spent chasing bipedal blowfish, or being taken hostage by a member of a lethal alien sleeper cell, or having a bullet hole develop slowly from the inside of her brain out. She hadn't exactly been able to tell him about work over supper. "How was my day? Oh, well, let me tell you about this sex-crazed gas alien I tried to shag, right? Only she wouldn't let me, cause it had to be a man. Didn't exactly work wonders for my self-esteem, did it?" Now, at last, she'd be able to talk to him more freely. Well, maybe not quite that freely.
She snorted as she sat down at her workstation. "Where's Jack?"
"In the medical bay, with Owen and Ianto," said Tosh, peering at something on her screen.
"Examining something from the rift, I assume?"
"Sort of," said Tosh, in a tone that seemed a little too absent.
"Anything interesting?"
"Nasty encounter with a gastrovite family last night. I didn't really see anything before Owen shooed me out, but Ianto wasn't looking too good—"
Gwen was out of her seat at a run as Tosh was muttering something about scanning for something that sounded like bad folds.
"You can't go in there," called Tosh.
"We'll just see about that," said Gwen, jaw tightly set.
"Tosh said something happened to—oh, my God!"
Ianto was green. He also didn't look as though he felt too well.
"Luckily, he got over the 'Exorcist' stage a couple of hours ago," said Owen, voice a bit muffled by the Hazmat suit.
"Not a moment too soon," said Jack, as he finished cleaning a spot on the wall ten feet away. "I think we got it all, right?" he added, turning back toward Owen.
Owen looked around the room. "Yeah, looks like it. Don't touch the railings, Gwen!"
Gwen jumped back, and then caught the gloves Owen tossed at her.
"And don't come any closer."
Jack touched his ear. "Toshiko, give us another scan, would you?"
"What happened?" asked Gwen.
"Ianto got attacked by a gastrovite," said Jack.
"So did you," said Ianto, faintly.
"Yeah, but then I fell off the roof and died, so it lost interest."
"And leapt straight for Ianto," said Owen, sharply.
"Left you alone, I noticed," said Ianto.
"Well, there was one tried shagging my leg," offered Owen.
"Where are they now?" asked Gwen, feeling distinctly twitchy.
"Dead," said Jack.
"The mainframe thinks you did it, guys," announced Tosh, taking a spot next to Gwen. "Let me just run this over it, to be sure…" She swept the room with her scanner thingy—Gwen never had known what it was called—and eyed it critically. "Yep, you got them all," she said after what seemed an eternity.
"Check the ceiling," said Jack.
Tosh scanned it, slowly. "Clear," she confirmed.
"Thank God," said Ianto.
Gwen started to make her way down the stairs.
"Ah!" warned Owen, "No unexposed personnel down here for the next three hours."
"But Tosh said it was clear," said Gwen.
"Of tadpoles, yeah," said Owen. "Not the stuff they breathe out."
"Then … why is it safe up here?"
"Because the gas is heavy, and sinks to the bottom of the room," said Jack, as he climbed the stairs towards her. "Let me see your hands." He pulled off her gloves. "Tosh?"
"She's clear," said Tosh, just icily enough for Gwen to meet her gaze. "I did try to warn you," she added, turning off her device, and on her heel, before stalking out of the room.
"Anyone want to tell me what really happened?" demanded Gwen, exasperated.
Owen sighed through his protective gear. "Rift alarm went off half an hour after you took lover boy home, so the three of us boys all went off on a nice little jaunt to a high-rise in Butetown, where we met up with a bunch of green rats with a hell of a leap and really long noses—"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you needed to be home with Rhys," said Jack.
"But I could've—"
"And he needed you."
"But really, Jack, I could have joined you. Rhys would have understood."
"Would he?" Jack turned a penetrating, guarded gaze on her that hid so much that it made Gwen go cold.
"Anyway," continued Owen, breaking them apart the way Joshua crumbled the walls of Jericho, "fortunately for us, there weren't any native life forms around, besides us, so we thought it would be easy-peasy, but then one of the little fuckers jumped Ianto and stuck its tongue down his throat, and another one started snogging Jack, who fell off the roof, died and totally ruined the experience for his would-be impregnator."
"I really didn't want to get pregnant, again," said Jack.
"Who then leapt up fourteen floors—"
"Fifteen," said Jack
Owen rolled his eyes. "And I suppose you counted as you flew by?"
"As a matter of fact, I did."
"Who then leapt up fifteen floors to join its mate down Ianto's gob."
Ianto swallowed, dangerously.
"You going to be sick again, mate?" asked Owen.
"I hope not. Nothing left to bring up."
Owen reached for a syringe and pressed it to Ianto's arm. "This should quell it," he said, with a surprising degree of sympathy.
"What do these things—gastrovites—do?" asked Gwen.
"What, you mean after they've deposited their tadpoles in your stomach?"
"Oh. Erm—"
"They eat their way through your body while they grow," said Jack, "which can take awhile."
Ianto winced.
"During that time," continued Owen, "they mate until they're all impregnated, and then they finish up their dinner and go off hunting for more."
"I've heard of some planets that got converted in less than a year," said Jack.
"Until they're all impregnated?" asked Gwen. "But how do they—if they're all female, I mean…"
"You've been working for Torchwood for how long?" said Owen, loading up another spray syringe.
"Fully functional hermaphrodites," said Jack. "Their sole purpose is eating and breeding till there's nothing left to consume."
"Could we stop talking about this?" asked Ianto.
"Can we, Gwen?" asked Jack, pointedly.
"Sure," said Gwen, absently, "but … is Ianto green permanently?"
"Nah!" said Owen, grinning. "That's just what happens when you combine the emetic and the anti-parasitic I had to give him. Amusing side-effect, don't you think?"
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Want to give it a try?"
"No, thanks. Been there, done that, an' all."
"My sympathies."
"Thanks, mate, same here," said Owen, his voice more gentle than it had been. He looked up at Jack and Gwen. "Now look, you two, nothing personal, but get the fuck out of my area and leave my patient alone, yeah?"
"Nothin' doin'," said Jack, turning and taking the stairs two at a time down to the floor.
"I'm staying, too," said Gwen, starting for the stairs, until she remembered what Jack had said about the gas. "What sort of gas do they breathe out?" she asked, not entirely sure that she wanted to know.
"Oh, it's a lovely little combo of things that'll kill anyone that hasn't been a host in about five minutes," said Owen. "You've got your hydrogen sulphide, your methane, your mustard gas, all cobbled together and bound into one gigantic and highly unstable molecule by your—"
"All right, I get the point," said Gwen, raising her hands in surrender.
"Is that all it takes? Alien gas chemistry? Who'd have thought it?"
"Can I get you anything, Jack?" she asked, pointedly.
"Coffee would be good—from Starbucks," he amended, quickly, as Ianto started to fidget.
"Ianto?" she asked.
"Nothing, thanks."
"I'll be back as soon as I can, then," said Gwen.
"Why yes, Gwen, I'd love a coffee. Thanks for asking!" called Owen.
Gwen returned half an hour later, with coffees for all but Ianto. She stopped at Tosh's workstation, first. "I got you a coffee," she said, awkwardly.
"Thanks," said Tosh. "You didn't have to, you know."
"Yes, I did," said Gwen, with a weak smile. "Ianto's down, and we're all addicts."
"That's true," said Tosh, and she grabbed the coffee and inhaled its scent. "God, I need you," she said to the cup.
Gwen laughed, and then sobered. "Look, Tosh, I—I'm sorry I ignored your warning, earlier. It's just I get worried, and I sort of—just go off…."
Tosh looked at her through a sip of coffee. "Yes, you do," she said, with a slight point to her voice.
Gwen's stomach fell, a bit.
"Look, it's all right, Gwen. Just—maybe don't be quite so quick to 'go off,' is all. Like last night."
"Jack told me to go home—"
"That's not what I meant," said Tosh, quietly. She looked pointedly at the cardboard tray.
"Well, I'd best be getting this to Jack and Owen before it gets cold." She began to walk towards the medical bay.
"Gwen?" called Tosh.
Gwen stopped and turned.
"Thanks for this. It's perfect, really. Well, as perfect as it can be without Ianto making it."
Gwen returned Tosh's smile and made her way to the upper level of the medical bay. She looked down to see Jack sitting by Ianto, holding his hand as he slept. Green really was not Ianto's colour, she noted, and then saw the drawn lines around his eyes and the underlying pallor of his face. He was the youngest of them, and he'd seen more than she had ever conjured in her worst nightmares.
Jack lifted Ianto's hand to his mouth and kissed it quickly before tucking it against his chest. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, so softly that Gwen could barely hear it. "I wish—"
Ianto stirred, not quite opening his eyes.
Jack froze, and then stroked sweat-matted hair as Ianto awoke. "Hey," he murmured. "Feeling better?"
"A bit," said Ianto a little croakily. "And I smell coffee."
Shit! thought Gwen. "Coffee," she called, taking a couple of noisy steps towards the stairs.
"'Bout bloody time," said Owen, rising from his scanning station, minus protective gear, Gwen suddenly noticed.
"Owen, if you were a host before, you're immune, right?" she asked.
"That's the gist of it, yeah," said Owen.
"Then why were you wearing a Hazmat suit?"
"Oh, you are quick! Teach you that in police school, did they?" Then he took pity on her. "I hate getting puke on me," he said matter-of-factly.
Jack muttered something under his breath and started to get up, but Owen pushed him back down.
"I'll get it, mate. You stay there. Ianto's vital signs do better when you're touching him." Owen climbed towards Gwen.
"Have they been like that—"
"The whole time you've been gone," confirmed Owen. "Disgusting, isn't it?"
"I think it's sweet," said Tosh, from behind Gwen.
"That's because you're a sentimental sap," proclaimed Owen.
"Hey! Coffee?" demanded Jack.
"All right, all right, keep your hair on," muttered Owen, taking Jack's coffee, which was recognizable by the size.
"Wait," said Gwen, balancing the tray on a hand and taking a coffee off it. "Don't forget yours."
"Hang on, let me give this to Jack, first," said Owen, as he descended the stairs. "I personally don't fancy coffee mixed with methane, unlike some people in the room."
Jack took the coffee from Owen, keeping hold of Ianto's hand.
Owen bounded back up the stairs and took his coffee from Gwen. "Thanks, love." Then, "Oh, god, it's fucking catching!" He shook his head in disgust and knocked back a large swig of the stuff. "Streuth, I needed this!"
Tosh leaned in towards Gwen. "He was frantic, last night," she murmured, nodding towards Jack. "If they'd been even one minute later giving Ianto the medicine, well…."
"You mean…?"
"Something about what happens when the tadpoles implant in the stomach lining. The process sets up a fatal cascade reaction. The host dies right about the time they'd finish with it, whether they're still there or not."
"Jack, I'm all right, you know," said Ianto, pulling Gwen's focus back to him with a gut-twisting wrench. "You don't have to hold my hand all day."
"No," agreed Jack, "but I want to, right now."
Gwen swallowed and blinked against unexpected, unwelcome emotion.
Ianto turned a pleading look on Owen.
"Don't look at me, mate; your readings get much better when he's hanging onto you."
"Could you find a cure for that?" asked Ianto.
"Hey!" said Jack.
Ianto looked at him for a moment before smiling and squeezing his hand. "All right, you can hold my hand while you drink your coffee, if you must, but then you're banished. World to save, future to protect, and all that."
"Fair enough," said Jack.
"Damn, I wish I could have some coffee," muttered Ianto.
Jack took a swallow of coffee, grinned and leant down to kiss him, pulling back when Ianto's hand reached his shoulder.
"Close enough," said Ianto. He tugged him down for another kiss, harder and for longer than Gwen (or apparently Jack) had expected. "Now drink your fucking coffee and hold my fucking hand, and let me get some goddamned sleep."
The tenderness of Ianto's hands in Jack's hair, the softness of his voice belying the gruff words, jolted Gwen back to her confrontation with Jack the previous night.
"But none of you have any partners outside of this."
"But we know how you feel—"
"No you don't, Jack!"
She winced and blinked back tears.
Jack stretched to kiss Ianto's forehead.
"Give me strength," said Owen.
"Oh, shut up, Owen!" said Gwen, realising with a pained smile that Tosh had joined her.
"In bloody stereo," Owen complained.
Gwen peered more closely at Owen, and noticed the muscles twitch as he worked to hide a grin.
When had she stopped noticing the small details she'd been told were essential to good police work? When had she let things slip so badly that she'd failed to see what had been right in front of her? When had she pulled the blinkers over her eyes, instead of keeping them clear, as she'd been taught?
"Just—maybe don't be quite so quick to 'go off,' is all."
She turned to Tosh. "You were right," she said, around a lump in her throat. She squeezed Tosh's arm as she left the medical bay. She reckoned she had about fifteen or twenty minutes before Tosh came looking for her. That should be enough for a good, pride-melting cry.