TITLE: Family Matters 1/?
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
RATING: PG (for swearing)
SUMMARY: Ianto asks for a personal day, which in itself is an oddity. Jack's curiosity gets the better of him and before he knows he finds himself in the middle of Ianto's family. Set from Jack's POV.
PAIRING: Jack/Ianto
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, and never will be sadly.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Angst, angst and more angst. What can I say? I started this quite a while ago, and sort of abandoned it. I still don't know how long it's going to be but I know that it will eventually end. I hope. I wanted to see Ianto out of a work situation and this is where I put him.

There was a tentative knock at Jack's door before it swung inwards to reveal Ianto stood there solemnly with a mug of coffee in his hand. Jack smiled warmly at him over the paperwork that was mounded up on his desk.

"My saviour." Jack sighed as he took the mug from Ianto gratefully, his fingers brushing against Ianto's momentarily.

"Sir," Ianto paused as Jack looked up at him. Ianto's gaze adverted to his feet for a moment, "I was wondering if I could have a personal day tomorrow?"

Jack held Ianto's gaze as he took a long sip of Ianto's finest.

"Can I ask why?" Jack questioned as Ianto looked back down at his shoes.

"With all due respect Sir, it's personal." Ianto told him, stuffing his hands in his hands in his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. Jack considered him for a long moment.

"You know if you need to talk about anything, I'm always available."

Ianto frowned, biting his lip and Jack realized only too late that it was no time to be flirting with the Welshman.

"You can have tomorrow off; have the week if you want. I can't remember the last time you had a day off."

"That won't be necessary, but thank you Sir." Ianto said politely before retreating out of Jack's office, "I'll see you on Thursday Sir."

"Night, Ianto." Jack's office door had already closed, effectively cutting off Ianto and his feelings from Jack.


"Jack?" Gwen was leaning on the door of Jack's office. Jack didn't look up or say anything for a moment; he was trying to figure out where he'd lost £632.45 from last year's budget. It was usually Ianto's job but Jack had felt so guilty about snooping through Ianto's papers he needed to do something to make up for it.

"Jack?" Gwen repeated stepping into the office now. Jack looked up distractedly.

"Where's Ianto?" Gwen questioned, causing Jack to properly tear his eyes away from the paperwork.

"He's taken a personal day." Jack replied, a hint of concern in his voice, Gwen's tone matching his concern.

"Is he okay?"

Jack lent back in his chair, regarding Gwen for a moment. He glanced at the mug on the edge of his desk before replying.

"I don't know."


Jack pulled up down the road from Ianto's terraced house in the suburbs of Cardiff. He sat staring out the front windscreen for a long moment at the cars parked outside the Welshman's house. He felt surprisingly under-dressed for a change as he watched black clad people shuffling into Ianto's house, a sombre look about them. His hand was on the car door before he re-considered, leaning back in the driver's seat. Maybe Ianto was right; it was a personal matter in which Jack had no right to intrude.

Jack still found himself on Ianto's doorstep some hours later after all the mourners were gone, expecting to find Ianto alone with the need of a shoulder to cry on. He was more than a little surprised when he was greeted at the door by a slim brunette with the remainder of panda eyes looking at him inquisitively as she brushed nervously at her simple black dress.

"Can I help you?" There was a Welsh lilt to her accent as she tried to bring a smile to her features and failed.

"I was wondering, I mean," Jack had never been one to mince his words, but he suddenly found himself at a loss of them. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, I work with Ianto." Jack said, holding out his hand.

"Rhiannon." She said softly as Jack wondered if she was sister, girlfriend, distant cousin or just friend. She didn't elaborate and Jack felt too embarrassed about the fact he didn't know to question her.

"I didn't see you at the funeral." Rhiannon stated.

"No, I'm sorry I'm afraid Ianto doesn't share his personal life at work. I didn't know. I'm sorry for your loss." Jack mumbled through his words.

"No," Rhiannon smiled, but it was hollow, "He doesn't share his work with his personal life. Do you want to talk to him?" Rhiannon asked, stepping aside.

"No, it'll wait until tomorrow." Jack said, taking a step back.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate the distraction."

Jack hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold. Rhiannon directed him into the living room.

"I'll just go and get him."

Jack found himself face to face with the remains of a wake. There were empty whiskey tumblers and wine glasses stood to attention in between half eaten sausages rolls and mini-quiches. On the sideboard of the adjacent dining room, sandwiched between two vases of white star lilies, stood a picture of a smiling middle aged woman, baby blue eyes that struck a remarkable resemblance to Ianto Jones'. He turned to see the exact same eyes, a little more bloodshot than usual, staring back at him.

"Is there a problem Sir?" There was a quiver in Ianto's voice that spoke of recent tears being shed. Jack's eyes took in Ianto's attire. The jacket and tie were gone, black shirt collar open at the neck. Jack shook his head eventually.

"No," he said hesitantly, "No problem."

"Can I ask what you're doing here then Sir; since I did have permission for a day off I presume it's not to enquire about my absence?" Ianto replied politely, if a little curtly.

Jack wanted to slap him.

"I was worried about you."

"Sorry to concern you Sir, but I'm fine thank you." Ianto replied again with the tediously polite façade. Jack stared at him incredulously for a moment, looking past him as he saw Rhiannon hovering by the living room door.

"Yan, I'm going to go to bed." Rhiannon announced, stepping into the room and encircling Ianto in a hug. Jack watched as Ianto placed a kiss in her hair before Rhiannon let him go to make her retreat, "Please don't tidy up before you go to bed." And with that she was gone.

"Friend?" Jack enquired as he heard her footsteps on the stairs.

"She's my sister." Ianto said, not looking at Jack before he crossed the room, piling plates together and gathering used napkins.

"She's right, you should leave –"

"Why did you come here?" Ianto almost hissed, turning towards Jack with such ferocity in his eyes that Jack almost physically reeled back.

"I told you; I was worried about you."

"That's shit and you know it." Ianto bit back, flinging the used napkins onto the dining room table. "Were you scared that I had another dirty little secret locked up in the basement of my house?"

Jack didn't know what to say, just stood there meeting Ianto's accusatory gaze.

"Am I no longer to be trusted enough to be let out of your sight for more than a few hours?" Ianto was in Jack's face now, staring him down before he turned away, pacing the room.

"Would you like to know the contents of the eulogy I gave at my mother's funeral today? Do you need a report on how I had to explain to my six year old cousin that her Auntie Rona wouldn't be at her little brother's christening next week because she's with the Angel's now?" There were tears sparking in Ianto's eyes now, a quiver in his voice, his accent much more pronounced.

"How about an estimate on the number of 'Sorry-for-your-losses' I had to endure with a grateful smile?" Tears were rolling down Ianto's pasty cheeks, "What do you want from me Jack?"

Ianto turned his back on Jack, leaning heavily on a dining room chair, Jack for a second time that night could not summon the right words. He crossed the room and tentatively placed a hand on Ianto's shoulder. The younger man turned without hesitation into Jack's arms, sobbing furiously.

"I don't want anything from you Ianto that you're not willing to give." Jack said softly, rubbing at Ianto's heaving shoulders before his hand was stroking at the back of Ianto's head in an attempt to sooth the distraught man.