Disclaimers: I do not own Torchwood or any of its characters. I am making no money from this. It is purely for entertainment
Summary: Ianto has a secret. Set during series one, after Cyberwoman.
Warnings: MPREG!! I am a HUGE fan of Mpreg. There are also hints of past child abuse.
Notes: Please remember that I am just another stupid American. Please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors as I must
rely solely on my own knowledge.
Tosh stared at the computer screen going over the same line of information several times while tapping the end of her pen
against her lower lip. Nothing was registering in her mind, the words a mere blur in front of her.
Jack had told them that they could take a few days, but Tosh needed to feel useful. She had promised to stay at her desk as
much as possible even though she was mostly just shaken up. Besides, she had stayed home all of yesterday and the day before,
and spent the time bored out of her mind and worried about Ianto. Jack had nodded and walked away, silently agreeing that she
could remain. Thankfully, the Rift had remained quiet.
She looked up when Gwen came in sporting a black eye and a few bruises along with injuries Tosh knew she couldn't see.
Tosh owed this woman her life. If Gwen hadn't kneed that man in the groin, Tosh never would have been able to run, to find
Owen and Ianto in the woods. They'd only gotten caught again, but the brief escape had bought them time, time enough for
Jack to show up in that great hulking tractor and save their lives.
Gwen smiled a little, as much as she could with the bruising to her face. She shouldn't be here either. But try telling Gwen
Cooper to do anything she didn't want to do. "Good morning, Tosh. What are you looking at?"
Toshiko sighed and continued staring at the screen. "Do you think he's dying?"
The question brought Gwen up short a second before she hurried over to look at the screen, which showed a bunch of nonsense
to anyone who didn't know what it was they were looking at. "Do I think who is dying?"
Tosh blinked, tearing her eyes away from the computer screen to look up at Gwen. "Ianto. Do you think Ianto might be
dying? Jack and Owen have been watching him like a pair of hawks lately, and he's been ill. Add all that to the fact that he was
shot. It might have been enough to push him over the edge, health-wise. Jack says Ianto is visiting family." She felt her throat
constrict and her eyes fill with tears at the thought of losing her friend. "He might be visiting them to say goodbye and tie up
Gwen hummed. Her gaze was unfocused as if she was staring off into some far-off distance. "All those trips to the bathroom,"
she murmured. "That's a symptom of cancer, isn't it? He does seem to spend an awful amount of time in the bathroom. I've
heard him being sick in there too."
"He's gotten so pale. And his eating habits. It's like he's on a restricted diet. Not allowed too much coffee, he told me." Tosh
bit her lip. "A few days ago I came in earlier than normal and Owen was giving him pills."
"Really?" Gwen pulled over a chair and sat next to Tosh. She winced as the movement obviously pulled at her injuries. "He
seems to be in pain, too," she said. "When he thinks no one is looking, you can see it in his face. Lower back pain, I'd say, by
the way he holds himself. And something wrong with his feet, or ankles."
Tosh nodded. "Jack and Owen are hiding something from us. Have you noticed how nice Owen's been to him?"
"It is odd. Actually, no. It's quite creepy. Highly disturbing."
Despite herself, Tosh managed a frail laugh. She turned back to her computer and began typing. "You and I will just have to
look into this. If Ianto is sick, I want to know."
"Right." Gwen stood. "I'll get on to tracking down his family. See if he's up for a little visit."
"I'll access his medical files. Maybe there's an indication there of this mysterious illness. Knowing Owen, he's probably deleted
everything and only kept hard copies of the files. Especially if they wanted to keep it from us." She sighed. "If there's a trace
of anything, I'll find it."
She didn't notice as Gwen returned to her own workstation.
Jack was staring down into the main area of the Hub, when Owen stepped up beside him. "I think we might have a problem,"
he stated, nodding toward the two women. He hadn't heard their conversation, but he didn't doubt they were up to something.
"You'll have a bigger problem when I kill the Tea-Boy," Owen muttered irritably.
Jack turned and raised an eyebrow at the medic. "Already? He's only been there two days."
"He's driving me insane!" Owen threw up his arms as he hissed out his irritation. "He won't stop cleaning! My flat has never
been so clean. It's cleaner than the day I moved in. He alphabetized my books and DVDs. And the cooking. Every meal he
makes a mountain of food and barely eats any of it himself, but my plate is always loaded with food enough for six people. I
swear he even packed me a lunch this morning. It's like having a wife!"
Jack snorted. "He's bored." He turned and headed into his office. Owen followed him. He waited until the door was closed
before he spoke again. "Think of it from his point of view. He's stuck at your place, unable to go anywhere, with absolutely
nothing to take his mind off of things but whatever you have on hand. I take it that's not a lot."
"I don't spend a great deal of time there!" Owen remarked snappishly.
Jack grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down into a chair. "Owen, calm down."
Owen dropped his face into his hands and groaned loudly. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and breathed deeply. "Right.
He's just driving me up a wall. Do you know he had me run out this morning to pick up milk? At four in the morning! I'd only
been home three hours."
Smirking, Jack walked around to sit behind his desk. "Give the man a break, Owen. He's under a lot of stress. Tell you what,
I'll swing by your place today and see if there's anything I can do to get him ... distracted."
"Don't you dare lay a finger on him, Harkness," Owen warned, his glare icy.
"No worries," he waved a hand dismissively. "I promised to keep my hands to myself, didn't I?"
"See that you remember that."
"Unless, of course, he makes the first move."
"Jack," Owen growled, eyes narrowed in warning.
Jack chuckled and made a shooing motion with his hands. "Go. I'll take care of it." Once Owen was out of the office, Jack
pulled up the CCTV footage of the Hub and tried to deduce what the women were up to.
Ianto jerked out of the light doze so abruptly that he nearly fell from the chair he'd been sitting in. As it was, the utterly dull
magazine he'd found during this morning's tidying, fell from his lap in a flutter of pages to the floor. He groaned, rubbing his
He was annoyed with himself. He'd only sat down for a minute. Three pages into the magazine and his eyes had begun to grow
He looked down at the magazine, then frowned. His frown deepened as he tried to bend to reach it and was unable to do so.
Well, he couldn't just let the magazine lie there. With a grunt, he shifted down in the chair until he was practically lying
horizontally and stretched his fingers down to reach. He was barely able to skim his fingertips across the nearest edge.
Scrunching down a bit more, he managed to snag a corner. But now came the problem of getting himself upright again. In the
end, he just let himself slide to the floor and get up from there.
Ianto went into the kitchen, and tore the magazine into pieces before he threw it away.
He yawned again as he padded over to the fridge, scratching idly at the underside of his stomach. Hungry, but not seeing
anything he wanted to eat, he closed the door again and turned to rummage through the cabinets. Nothing appealed to him.
There was a bag of crisps in his hands when someone knocked on the door. The sudden noise startled him and he jumped back,
scattering the crisps all over the counters and the floor.
"Perfect," he mumbled, shakily placing the nearly empty bag aside.
The knocking sounded again, loud and more of a brutal banging than anything else. Warily, he approached the door, swallowing
against the dryness in his throat. He pressed his fingers to the door, irritated by the way they were shaking.
When there was another knock, he called out, "Wh-Who's there?" Then felt like a complete moron for saying it.
An all-too familiar chuckle made him relax instantly. "It's me, Ianto."
Ianto unlocked and opened the door, hiding himself behind the wood as he let Jack inside. To his surprise, Jack's arms were
loaded with a pile of three file boxes. A laptop bag hung from one shoulder and a number of plastic shopping bags dangled from
one wrist. Clenched between one hand and the boxes was a large carry-all that Ianto recognized from his own closet. With his
hands so full, he must have been kicking the door.
"Give me a hand here?" Jack asked, the smirk evident in his voice though Ianto couldn't see it past the boxes in his arms.
Ianto took the topmost box and carried it to the kitchen, placing it up on the counter, grimacing at the crisps littering the
surface. He heard Jack follow him in, the sound of the front door clicking shut behind him. The other two boxes were dropped
onto the first one. Jack slid the laptop bag to the floor along with the carry-all. The plastic bags were set on the counter,
crunching a number of crisps beneath their weight.
"I know you're bored, but you didn't have to throw food around just to have something to clean," Jack mused.
"It was an accident," Ianto said in his defense. He cast a sideways glance at Jack, wondering what the man was doing here. "I
wasn't expecting visitors."
Jack didn't reply, but he did reach a hand up. When he pulled it back, there was a crisp in his fingers. "Not the best look on
Ianto rolled his eyes and turned away, running a hand through his hair to dislodge any more crisps. "If you've just come to
mock me, you can leave." He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, feeling cold. He hadn't brought much clothing with
him. Not that it would have mattered. Very few of his shirts fit him anymore. Actually, none of them did. He didn't think
Owen's would fit any better.
Ianto inclined his head. "A bit."
The rustling of plastic made him turn. Jack was grinning as he pulled a t-shirt from one of the shopping bags. He ripped the
price tag off and tossed it to Ianto. "I figured you needed new clothes, so I bought you a couple shirts, few jumpers, and this."
He produced a dressing gown from the same bag he had pulled the shirt from. "I noticed your other one isn't going to be able to
close in the front much longer." He cleared his throat. "Can't have you catching a cold."
Ianto pulled the shirt on over his head and looked down at himself. The collar was loose and the sleeves hanging long, but then
it was a larger size than he usually wore. The important thing was that it did cover his stomach. He felt a smile tugging at the
corners of his mouth as he smoothed his hands down over his bump. Then he shook his head, cheeks tinging pink as he realized
Jack was still watching him.
He cleared his throat. "What's all this?" A nervous waving gesture indicated the bags and boxes cluttering up the counter.
"Ah, well, Owen was concerned that you might not have anything to do, so-"
"He threw a fit and called me a loony, didn't he?"
Jack grinned. "Not in so many words. Anyway, I brought over some stuff to keep you busy." He slapped a hand against one
of the boxes. "Files from the Hub that could use reorganizing." He indicated the laptop bag on the floor. "And that's so you can
work on those encrypted files from One."
"You've brought me work. How lovely."
The wry grin didn't falter. "Ah, not all work." He bent and picked up the carry-all. "I swung by your place and grabbed a few
things for you. Books, DVDs, toiletries. If you need anything else, let me know and either I or Owen can run over and get it
Ianto didn't know what to say, so he said nothing at all.
Jack's smiled widened as he wrestled one of the plastic shopping bags loose and held it up triumphantly. "And from the lovely,
Mrs. Koladka, I have lunch."
Ianto leaped forward and snatched the bag away. It was still warm. He inhaled deeply, his mouth already watering at the mere
thought of eating his neighbor's cooking.
"She caught me in the hall as I was leaving your flat. I told her you were staying with a friend while you recovered from an
unexpected injury. She insisted on a care package."
"God, I love that woman," Ianto groaned, hurrying into the kitchen and quickly finding dishware and cutlery. He split the food
into two, though he did retain the larger portion for himself with the legitimate excuse that he was eating for two. Jack would
have to make do with the smaller portion.
He practically inhaled the food he had served himself and blinked when Jack handed over what he had. "Jack?"
Jack smiled. "Hey, I can go out to eat, and Owen says you've barely touched your meals." He motioned to the laptop. "You
should look up how to make some of this stuff. You seem to like it well enough."
Ianto ate his second serving a great deal slower. "I don't know why, but I haven't really felt like eating much."
Jack shrugged. "Maybe it's your form of cravings. This is alien tech we're talking about, after all. No idea what we're in for."
He tapped Ianto's plate. "Eat up and then get some sleep. I'll clean up in here."
Snorting, Ianto put the empty plates in the sink. "Sorry, but you saying the word 'clean' is just so odd when it isn't dealing with
the aftermath of a Weevil attack."
"I'll have you know, I can be a very tidy person when I want to be."
Crossing his arms, Ianto turned back to face Jack, one eyebrow raised dubiously. "You do remember that I'm the one who
cleans up after you?"
"Who am I to deprive you of work?" Jack asked, the picture of mock-innocence. "Go on then. I'll take care of this."
Ianto bit his lip, a sudden nervousness creeping over him. "I, well ... actually, I'm not all that tired." He started fiddling with the
hem of the shirt Jack had given him. He wanted Jack to stay, to talk to him, just to be close by. He felt utterly ridiculous. What
would Jack think if he knew what was going through his head? Would he think him pathetic?
He cleared his throat and decided to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach. "We could both clean up in here. Then maybe,
if you're not busy of course, we could sit. I dunno, chat or something." He couldn't look at Jack as he spoke though, worried
that he was coming off sounding like a teenager with a crush.
There was the crunch of crisps under Jack's heavy boots, then the Captain's fingers slid across his cheek. He still didn't look
up, not until Jack cupped his cheek and urged him to. The smile on Jack's face was near-blinding. "All you had to do was ask."
Ianto's heart was doing funny things. Surely it wasn't supposed to beat so rapidly. He smiled back at Jack, hesitant and still
unsure. "Could you stay? For a bit?"
"Absolutely." He pressed a lingering kiss to Ianto's forehead, then stepped back and asked where the broom was.
Ianto didn't remember answering. Or much of the cleaning that followed. Everything seemed to blur a bit until Jack began to
tug lightly at his wrist. He dropped the cloth he'd been using to wipe the counter and followed without a comment.
Seeing how little furniture Owen owned, there was really only one place for the two of them to sit comfortably. The bed. Ianto
felt butterflies chasing each other around his stomach at the mere prospect of sharing the space with the dashing Captain. He
rubbed his forehead and cleared his throat as he sat, deliberately keeping his focus anywhere other than on Jack as he sat on the
Jack, being himself, toed off his boots and tossed his coat carelessly aside before heaving himself with a bounce into the very
middle of the large bed. He leaned up against the headboard and patted the space beside him. "No need to be shy, Mr. Jones,"
he grinned wolfishly.
Ianto coughed. He tried to smile, but didn't think it went over so well. He ducked his head down and shifted over until he was
sat beside Jack.
Jack's fingers tucked under his chin, his thumb trailing in a tender caress across Ianto's lips. "Stop being so nervous. We have
an agreement, remember? You set the pace." He drew his hand away, still smiling. "Besides, Owen will kill me if I take
advantage of your innocent ways."
Frowning now, Ianto asked, "What does Owen have to do with it?"
"Relax," Jack said, placing his hand on Ianto's shoulder. "He's only looking out for you."
Ianto shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Owen should mind his own sodding business," he muttered.
Then he stiffened, sitting straight up, feeling irritated. "I'm fully capable of making my own decisions!"
"He means well."
"Just because I won't listen to him and tell Tosh, it doesn't give him any right to shove his nose into my love-life!" He looked at
Jack, then came to a decision. Without giving himself a chance to think it over and probably back out, he grabbed at the sides of
Jack's head and kissed him hard.
He could feel Jack grinning against his lips. He ran his tongue across that perfect smile. In the blink of an eye, tongues were
battling for dominance. Ianto moaned into the kiss, rising up onto his knees. His stomach bumped against Jack and he grunted,
wishing the encumbrance wasn't keeping them apart.
Jack's hands were far from idle. They ghosted up his thighs, up along his body all the way to his shoulders and then descended
again, settling briefly on his hips and guiding the Welshman to straddle him. Ianto shivered at the position he was in, then
groaned as Jack's large hands moved to settle on his rounded stomach underneath his loose t-shirt, one hand on the side, the
other pressed firmly to the front so as to avoid the bandaging, his thumbs brushing back and forth against the stretched skin.
Ianto jerked back, uncomfortable with the sensation. It felt too intimate. He reluctantly broke the kiss, pressing his forehead
against Jack's as he tried to regain his breath. "Please, Jack," he rasped, still panting. "Don't touch me there."
Jack's hands immediately stilled, but were slower to move away. One went to his hip, his other curling around the back of
Ianto's neck. "It's nothing to be ashamed about."
Ianto offered a frail smile, still unable to meet the other man's eyes. "Says the man who doesn't look like he swallowed a
"You feel like that now. But in a few months, you'll have that baby boy in your arms and it won't matter so much." He pressed
a chaste kiss to the corner of Ianto's mouth. "Believe me, I know," he offered, more quietly.
Ianto wasn't certain he was supposed to hear that, but he couldn't undo it. Now he was curious. "What do you mean?" He
looked at Jack properly now and was amazed to see what looked like uncertainty in the Captain's eyes.
"Let's just say I have a little more first-hand knowledge than Owen knows about."
The offhand comments made to him over that shared cinnamon roll two weeks ago came back to the forefront of Ianto's mind.
"You had cravings for cinnamon rolls." Ianto couldn't help but grin.
"Did I ever! And on a colony world that had never heard of them!" Jack was beaming again. "If it weren't for little Mrs. Elva, I
never would have made it through."
Ianto smiled back. He turned slightly and let his weight drop against Jack's side. He settled there, his head pillowed against
Jack's chest. "So, what was it? You don't have to answer. It's really none of my business." He fingered one of Jack's shirt
buttons, not knowing what else to do with his hands.
"Get some rest, Mr. Jones," Jack replied, a hand tousling Ianto's hair.
Ianto let it go. It wasn't any of his business. If Jack didn't want to tell him, he didn't have to.
He nodded, nuzzling against Jack a little. He was almost startled by how easy it was for him to fall asleep. Jack's arm came
around him, holding him securely.
Ianto was caught between awake and asleep when he heard the barely audible whisper. "She was a beautiful little girl," Jack's
voice uttered, followed by a warm kiss to his forehead that chased him into his dreams.
Owen staggered into his flat just after two in the morning. He didn't really take notice of anything as he shambled in, only
belatedly realizing that he didn't smell any food cooking or hear the sounds of Ianto cleaning something. Jack had been gone
most of the afternoon. Maybe he'd been able to distract Ianto. Owen didn't want to think about the man's methods, but he
sincerely hoped they'd worked. He didn't think he could take another night of having his very own pseudo-wife waiting around
to make his evening miserable.
Instead, what he came home to was a quiet flat. The only light that was on was in the bedroom. When he entered, he found
Ianto propped up in bed, a laptop perched on his legs, folders and papers strewn about the bed around him. The Welshman was
typing away, focused intently on the screen before him. A pen was hanging from his lips, moving now and again as he absently
chewed on the end of it.
"Anything for dinner?" Owen asked, watching the other man carefully.
Ianto hummed. He waved a hand dismissively toward the bedroom door and the rooms beyond it. "Oh. Uh, there's probably
something left over from yesterday if you want it." He never took his eyes from the screen, the pen bobbing up and down with
his words. Blindly, he swept some of the folders from the other side of the bed, making room for Owen. "I didn't really think
of making anything today."
Owen couldn't help but grin. Finally, some sanity.
To Be Continued ...