Title: Extraordinarily Ordinary
Rating: Anyone
Fandom: Torchwood
Spoilers: Through CoE
Disclaimer: BBC owns Torchwood. I just like to play with the characters.
Summary: Ianto explains in no uncertain terms how 'ordinary' he is.
Author's Note: Reviews and comments are always appreciated. Thank you for reading.


"You blame yourself," Ianto Jones stated, "and you need not."

Shifting his stance, he blew out a sighing breath. "Actually, it's a bit presumptuous that you blame yourself for those who've died for the sake of Torchwood. You may have recruited all of us, but you're not responsible for us being here. One does not work for Torchwood without knowing the risks; and you know that."

Ducking his head, Ianto frowned slightly – his brow furrowing in just the tiniest way – until he looked up once again and quirked his lips up just a bit in a painful smile. "I spent most of my life never measuring up. I was an average boy and I've always been an average man; average in that I've no real talent. I don't have much of an imagination, although working for Torchwood has tested that and made me grow. God knows, hunting Weevils was not what I anticipated doing when I grew up."

His lips tightened and he continued, "I come from a lower class family in a lower class neighborhood." His voice became impatient and tense before he added, "But my father had such grand ideas."

Agitation came through clearly in his voice when Ianto said, "He never understood that I was just… average. That's all – an average kid in intelligence and physical prowess. I couldn't play sports, I barely got by in classes, and I've never had any sort of artistic abilities. Although, I'm great with stick figures."

The last of the statement took the breath out of Ianto in a visible manner, and he had to calm himself in the usual manner. He closed his eyes, drew in a silent breath, and forced himself to relax.

When he looked up, everything about him had softened. In that soft, Welsh voice that Jack adored, Ianto said, "Then I came here – hurt, alone, and so bloody average that I have surprised myself a thousand times over. Because here, I've found something missing; something vital. I have found a home, and a place where even someone so completely average can be so very extraordinary. And I found you."

"Don't close your ears to this, Jack. I know you," Ianto reprimanded.

"You stop listening when someone says something with which you do not agree. So I'm telling you to stop," Ianto said, the features of his face staying soft, but his voice getting a little harder.

Under his breath he muttered, "And now you can stop rolling your eyes."

"You brought me here – gave me entrance – to something beautiful, amazing, and fun," Ianto said. "So if you think you're to blame for the deaths that surround you, then you are more than an idiot. You're a fool. That's like saying the victim of a crime is somehow responsible for the crime. And don't you dare start muttering the word 'karma'. Blame the bloody aliens and the rift instead."

Smiling wide, Ianto's eyes glowed when he quietly and sincerely stated, "You bring to life something extraordinary in the ordinary. In me. You have always brought me a sense of purpose, acceptance, and belonging. Jack, you make those around you really live every moment of every day."

Straightening his waistcoat, Ianto cocked his head and added, "I'd rather live an hour with you and Torchwood than a hundred years working in some office, living in ignorance."

In that low, seductive tone that always caused Jack's breath to hitch, Ianto said, "Oh yes, Jack. Just one night with you and I've lived a hundred lives."

The young man's eyes had begun to glow in something deep and primal before he cleared his throat and quietly added, "Just so you know, Jack… in case I've never said it… "

His face, neck, and ears flushed a little when he said, "I love you. I always will."


Tears slipped down Jack's face as he turned off the recording, stared at the final log-off screen on the computer, and clicked the button that would erase Ianto Jones as an active member of Torchwood.

"You okay?" Gwen softly asked, slipping in beside Jack and hugging him close.

"I don't know," he answered in a choked whisper, before burying his face in her hair.

Gwen held on tight as Jack gave in and wept ordinary tears for an extraordinary man.