Title: Life Unexpected
Summary: Ianto Jones finds himself in a peculiar predicament when the team's new doctor discovers a baby growing inside of him. To make it more peculiar, Jack is the father. The predicament only gets worse when it's discovered that a much bigger plan is at work, and their baby is right in the middle of it.
Beta: A huge thanks to my betas, the brilliant czarina_kitty who made sure the plot made sense, and the equally brilliant ally_p_x who made sure no Americanisms appeared in my story.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Setting: Post-season 2
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Mpreg, explicit sex
Word Count: 110,082
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its properties do not belong to me.
Author's Note: The story was written for ianto_bigbang on livejournal, which had been held late last year. The story is already complete so I'll be posting a chapter a day, if RL doesn't get in the way. Happy reading!


Ianto bit Jack's shoulder, hands clutching the broad sweaty back as Jack moved inside him. Jack's hard abdomen provided the necessary friction for his aching cock while his prostate was stimulated with every savage thrust. Jack wasn't gentle tonight and Ianto revelled in it. Gentle lovemaking was fine, but a rough fuck was sometimes better.

Jack's breaths were harsh against his ear, and Ianto could hear the occasional praise from Jack's lips ("You're so good"—"You're so tight"—"I love your ass"). Ianto took pride in pleasing Jack in the bedroom, which was no small feat considering that Jack was the epitome of an intergalactic Casanova and has had plenty of lovers, but what really made his ass clench and his cock pulse was Jack moaning his name, growling it, screaming it, whispering it, it didn't matter. Every time his name left Jack's lips when the older man fucked him, it did more to his body than having his cock stroked or his ass pounded.

Ianto arched when a particular thrust brutally struck his prostate. Jack loved to tease sometimes, purposely making his thrusts erratic so his prostate wasn't always hit, but not tonight.

"Come for me, Ianto," Jack whispered.

He did, hard and long, nails digging into Jack's back and eyes clenched shut as he cried out. He shuddered as the final spurts of semen splashed between their bodies, and he lazily opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling as his body cradled Jack's, clenching his inner muscles to give Jack's cock a tighter fit. Ianto knew he liked it when he did that.

A few seconds later, Jack bucked and hissed, face buried in Ianto's neck. Ianto sighed with contentment at the feel of semen inside him. Only in recent weeks had Ianto allowed the abandonment of condoms, a frantic need to be marked by Jack overriding any previous stands to have safe sex with his Casanova. With the deaths of Tosh and Owen, Jack running to his Doctor to put the earth back in its proper place, and another close call with a Dalek, Ianto didn't see any more reason to resist the desire to feel Jack's bare length inside him, to feel his essence filling him. He had wanted to know how it felt like before he died.

Most Torchwood operatives died before they reached their thirtieth birthday (if they weren't initially hired in their thirties, anyway), and Ianto knew it was likely that he would never see that particular number on his birthday cake. Hell, he could die within the next twenty-four hours. While Ianto couldn't trust Jack with his heart, he could at least trust him with his body for what little time he had left before it was his turn to die.

"Evil," Jack murmured, resting on top of him. Ianto didn't mind, for now.

"How am I evil?" He ran a hand down his lover's back.

"You did that clenching thing. You know I can't hold back when you do that." Jack lifted himself onto his elbows to stare down at him. His hair was damp with sweat, his face moist, but his blue eyes were hazy with satisfaction and his lips were curved upwards. He cupped Ianto's cheeks. "You're evil."

Ianto chuckled. Taking hold of Jack's face, he brought his head down for a kiss. It was slow and sensual, a post-coital kiss that had nothing to do with urgency as their tongues lazily mated.

Jack's cock slipped out and the man plopped down on the bed beside him. Ianto turned to place his head on Jack's shoulder, running a hand down the hairless chest that moved up and down as Jack got his breath back. He could faintly hear the light noise of Cardiff outside his opened bedroom window: cars, loud laughter, and a howl of what sounded like a lonely dog—but could just as easily be some sort of alien canine running amok.

It felt good to take a time-out from life and lay next to his lover, letting post-orgasmic bliss run through their bodies for several minutes.

Jack grabbed his hand and lifted it up. "What's this?"

Ianto looked at his hand. Jack was thumbing the bracelet loosely draped around his wrist. "Oh, I forgot about that."

"Where did you get it?"

"A girl gave it to me."

Jack arched a brow. "A girl? Something you need to tell me?"

Ianto used his free hand to lightly hit Jack's stomach. "She looked around ten years old. She walked up to me on the way to the hub, said it was perfect for me. I put it on for her benefit, but then you called and I forgot about it."

Ianto examined his new piece of jewellry. It was smooth thin leather with two tiny charms, both in the shape of a circle with an arrow pointing north-east, the universal sign for a male. It was plain in design, nothing fancy, but Ianto wasn't much into jewellry, not even something that looked so basic. He reached to take it off, but his intentions were stalled when Jack grabbed his hand.

"The girl was on to something. It suits you."

Ianto frowned. "Really?"

"Simple, but elegant. You can hide it under your shirt sleeves." Jack waggled his brows. "Kinky."

Snorting, Ianto rolled his eyes and lowered his hand. "I'll think about it." He pulled away from Jack and rolled away so his back was to Jack. "Now go get a flannel."

Jack chuckled and Ianto squirmed when he felt fingers caressing his sensitive opening. He could feel Jack's semen trickling out. "You know, if you clench your ass muscles it wouldn't be coming out."

Ianto flushed red. He wasn't used to having another man's come spilling out of his ass no matter how many times he did this. "Jack—"

"Or we could do this."

He gasped when he felt Jack's tongue probe his hole. He bit his lip and closed his eyes as he was rimmed clean. God, when Jack first introduced rimming to him, Ianto had been appalled, and it had taken Jack weeks before Ianto allowed him to do it. It had taken another few weeks before he had allowed Jack to kiss him right after rimming Ianto's ass. Ianto used to force him to brush his teeth before letting Jack shove his tongue down Ianto's throat.

And right now, he enjoyed having Jack tonguing his pucker, making his cock rise with new interest as he felt his entrance twitching with need.

He wanted Jack inside him again.

When Jack pulled away and spooned behind him, teeth nibbling at his ear, Ianto grabbed his hand and wrapped it around his cock as he snuggled his ass against Jack's groin, happy to discover Jack's erection. "Again," Ianto whispered, lifting his leg and silently telling Jack what he wanted.

"You need sleep." Despite his words, Jack shifted until the head of his cock nudged Ianto's entrance.

Jack was probably right. Without Tosh and Owen, the workload was split among three people and Ianto was barely getting enough sleep. There just didn't seem time to do anything more, all their attention focused on restoring Cardiff as aliens come out of hiding to rain havoc on the vulnerable public. But lack of time also meant lack of sex, and in the past month this was only the sixth time they'd managed to sneak away for a couple of hours to Ianto's flat for a fuck that would last much longer than the four-minute quickies they'd been having. He didn't want to waste the little time they had with sleep.

"Sleep later, fuck now."

Jack nuzzled the back of his neck. "Insatiable."

Ianto groaned when Jack slipped inside him. Yes, this is what he needed now. Just this. Just Jack.

Terry Burton was thirty-six, thin, redheaded, and enthralled with Jack.

Ianto wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He was glad Jack had taken the initiative and hired a new doctor, no doubt a result from Gwen's close call a couple of weeks ago when they had chased down a hostile alien intent on eating the earth's electronics and killing anything that got in its way. They had managed to kick the alien back to its own planet, but Gwen had been carried away in an ambulance with five three-inch puncture wounds in her abdomen.

With Terry, they now had another team member who they could take out into the field—once he was properly trained with a gun—and who the others could go to for medical treatment when they wanted to avoid the hospitals.

Unfortunately for Ianto, Terry's inclusion into their team also meant another person who fawned over Jack. Ianto was used to seeing men, women, and even aliens flirt with Jack and vice versa, and he accepted it. Accepting it, though, didn't mean it wasn't a bother, because it was a bother. It bothered him a lot.

And it wasn't so much others flirting with Jack that bothered him, it was how Jack always flirted back and sometimes took it too far. Verbal flirtation was harmless, but it was the touching that drove Ianto crazy. A hand on a thigh, a thumb on a pouty bottom lip, knuckles brushing against a cheek. Jack was constantly touching the people he flirted with, and Terry was no different. It amused him to see how anxious Terry was to impress Jack, but it hurt him to see Jack touch Terry the way he touched Ianto. Jack sometimes made Ianto special, but when he touched Terry like that—right in front of him—it made him feel like he was just one more in a long line of people who Jack made feel special.

Jack didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, the bastard.

Ianto hated his insecurities, hated that he was too afraid to spoil his fragile relationship with Jack to speak up about them, but most of all he hated Jack for being so easy to fall for.

The whistle of the coffee machine startled him out of his dark thoughts and he stubbornly shook his head. He told himself to get over it. He knew Jack belonged to no one. Ianto could never have all of him and he would just have to deal with Jack's flirtation. He repeated his pep talk as he made coffee for his teammates.

Ten minutes later he was carrying a tray with three steaming mugs. Gwen was in front of her computer, a frown on her face as she examined reports of unnamed creatures making appearances in London. He carefully placed her mug by her elbow.

She smiled at him, the gap between her teeth visible. "Thanks, love."

As she grabbed her mug with both hands, he nodded at the screen. "Anything good?"

She took a sip, eyes blissfully closed for a few seconds. "This is so good," she whispered, making Ianto smile. Gwen then shook her head and opened her eyes to look at the screen. "That, not so much. The reports say that the creatures look like dogs, except they have antlers and six legs. Four in the front, two in the back." She looked up at him. "Any aliens with that description?"

Ianto frowned, trying to remember if he stumbled upon any matching descriptions in the Archives, but he eventually shook his head. "I never heard of that kind of alien." He shrugged one shoulder. "Then again, the Archives are still in chaos. It's possible we have information on such creatures, but I have yet to stumble upon the file. I could look for you if you want."

She waved her hand. "Don't fret. I'll deal with this by myself."

Ianto arched a brow. "You really suspect these creatures are real?"

"I'm curious is all. Now that Cardiff is settling down from the earth moving and Terry is working with us, I have more time." She pointed at her computer. "I'll make this my own special project."

"I'll let you know if I find any file that might be helpful to you."


Ianto moved away and headed towards the medical bay, pausing in his steps when he discovered it empty. Terry spent a lot of time down here, examining alien carcasses, alien blood, and alien DNA, among other things. It reminded Ianto of Owen and how the late doctor used to spend hours in the medical bay, conducting experiments and autopsies of the alien kind. It made Ianto smile sadly whenever those kinds of memories were brought up to the surface. He and Owen had never been best friends, but they got along as fine as any two men could without strangling each other. Verbal barbs had been their way of expressing friendship.

Ianto spied a glass container sitting on top of a tiny flare coming from a piece of metal on the counter in the medical bay. Ianto was pretty sure that flare was alien tech, but he wasn't so sure if the green liquid inside the beaker was supposed to bubble over the rim like that. It was already making a mess.

Yep, definitely like Owen.

He returned to the main hub and glanced up at Jack's office. He spotted Jack at his desk, and leaning against the desk was Terry. Ianto scowled, that flicker of jealousy making him uncomfortable. He muttered to himself as he walked to Jack's office, plastering on a smile when he entered.

Terry glanced at him and smiled. "Coffee!" He grabbed his mug when Ianto was close enough.

Ianto smiled slightly, his jealousy dampened by Terry's enthusiastic response to the hot brew. It was funny how child-like Terry could be when given coffee despite being more than a decade older than Ianto. It was what made it so hard to dislike the doctor.

In all honesty, Ianto really had no problem with Terry, could even come to genuinely like him as a friend. He just wished he could find a way to get rid of the jealousy he felt every time he saw Terry and Jack together.

He turned to Jack and handed him his mug. Jack was smiling and Ianto felt his own smile soften, a much more intimate smile than the ones he gave to anyone else.

"Gwen found herself a new project."

"With what?" Jack sipped his coffee.

"Creatures in London. Dog-like, but they have antlers and two extra legs."

"That could be any number of species."

"You'll probably be more useful to her than me. Speaking of projects." Ianto turned to Terry. "Your green liquid is boiling."

Terry looked lost for a moment before his eyes widened. He gasped and hastily placed his mug down on Jack's desk before running out of the office. Terry's hasty movements spilled some coffee over the rim of the mug and onto a few papers scattered across Jack's desk. Ianto scowled.

He placed the tray down. "These better not be anything we have to send to the Prime Minister." It galled him to have important documents stained with liquid and food. It spoke of unprofessionalism, and Ianto most certainly didn't like himself or Torchwood to be labelled as unprofessional. It was a difficult task to achieve when one worked with colleagues such as Jack, who followed his own method of work ethics and plugged his ears whenever someone from the government called to complain.

Jack clamped a hand around his wrist when he reached for a soiled paper. "Leave it." He tugged and Ianto grunted when he nearly sprawled across Jack's lap.


The smug bastard grinned and arranged Ianto until he was sitting on his lap, one arm firmly wrapped around him, another reaching up to grab at Ianto's chin and positioning his face for a kiss.

When their lips pressed together, Ianto moaned, his ire slipping away. It was difficult to feel anything other than desire when Jack kissed him.

Jack pulled away. "You're still wearing it."

Ianto felt Jack's fingers probing at the leather bracelet through his cuff. "It isn't too distracting." Ianto could hear the defensive tone in his voice.

Ianto had opted to wear the bracelet for only a couple of days, but two weeks later and Ianto still wore the bloody thing because he noticed the way Jack's eyes darkened with lust every time he spied the bracelet on Ianto's wrist, an observation that left Ianto befuddled. Remembering Jack's comment of the bracelet being kinky, Ianto could only assume that the bracelet reminded Jack of their kinkier adventures in bed.

Ianto's limited sexual world had broadened to areas that he never would have contemplated before. Ianto now knew the softness of leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists and ankles as he was chained to the bed spread-eagled, the tightness of a leather cock ring keeping his penis erect while Jack used all sorts of toys and devices on his exposed body, the braided strands of a flog that lightly hit his back, and even the feel of a leather collar wrapped around his throat. All these and more made him feel like Jack's personal plaything, and Ianto enjoyed it. Ianto wouldn't be surprised if their kinky adventures were fondly remembered every time Jack looked at the bracelet.

An assumption proved accurate when Jack murmured, "How do you feel about being tied to my bed tonight?"

Ianto tried to look affronted, but it was difficult to do so when his breath caught and his dick stirred. He opted for indifference. "If you're good." He ignored Jack's pout and got off his lap, straightening his suit. He grabbed his tray and started out of the office. He paused at the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. "If you finish the paperwork by eight and if the rift is quiet, I'll be naked in your bed waiting for instructions, sir."

He smirked at the sound of a pen scribbling. Jack was so predictable sometimes. The promise of sex always spurred Jack into doing his paperwork.

He was halfway down the stairs when his surroundings suddenly spun. He grabbed at the railing to prevent himself from falling down the metal staircase, the vertigo making him want to vomit. Lightheaded, he feared passing out and he closed his eyes, clutching at the railing as he caught his bearings. The vertigo ceased and he carefully opened his eyes. Nothing moved. He shook his head, unsure of what just happened.

Lunch, he decided. It was past three and he hasn't eaten anything since breakfast, and it had been a paltry breakfast of coffee and a pastry. No wonder he was feeling dizzy.

He was grateful no one saw his moment of weakness. Ianto was accustomed to taking care of others during their weak moments, but he did his best to hide his own. He wasn't comfortable with anyone seeing him as anything but strong, and only when he was truly stressed or emotionally wrought did he dare expose his weaknesses, mostly because he couldn't hold it back.

He carefully walked down the last few steps and sighed in relief when the vertigo didn't return.

"So," he called out, making sure he had everyone's attention, "anyone up for Thai?"

Jack stayed low behind the crate, peeking around the big wooden box. Seeing no one, he circled the crate before darting behind another one. He tapped the comm in his ear. "Gwen? Ianto? Anything?"

"Nope," Gwen responded. "I don't see it."

"I hear it." Ianto's voice was noticeably quieter. "Third floor, towards the back. Should I try to apprehend it before it gets away?"

Jack took a quick moment to consider his options. The Sakaloponuois—a humanoid species that worshipped water—were hostile when confronted and he didn't like the idea of Ianto going on the offensive. It was only one Sakaloponuois, but its claws were covered in poison. One scratch could do a lot of damage. With Jack on the second floor and Gwen somewhere on the forth, he didn't want to risk Ianto getting poisoned while they were too far away to help.

He wasn't going to lose another team member.

"Stay where you are, Ianto. Don't engage." Jack began walking towards the staircase. "I'm heading up. Gwen? Meet me on the third floor."

"I may not have a choice, Jack. It's starting to get close to where I'm—"

Ianto muttered something Jack couldn't understand and Jack hit the staircase running when he heard gunshots and the unmistakable high-pitched scream that could only belong to the alien. He reached the third floor at the same time as Gwen, hearing the sound of glass shattering. Guns at the ready, he kicked down the door that led to another large storage area and pointed his weapon as he walked inside, Gwen close at his heels. It was silent; the only thing audible was the lapping waves in the bay. He found a broken window, and glanced through the makeshift opening but saw nothing except dark waters and an ever darker sky.

"Ianto!" His shout echoed throughout the area.

"Over here."

Jack moved across the room until he found Ianto leaning against the wall, head bowed and gun dangling from one hand. He lifted his head. "It got away. Jumped out the window."


"On it." Gwen made her way to where Ianto pointed, hand at her comm as she contacted Terry, who had remained at the hub to help them track down the slippery alien.

He grabbed Ianto's shoulders. "You okay?"

Ianto inhaled sharply. "I shot at it. The bullet struck its arm but then it got—I don't know, stuck."

"Their flesh isn't like ours. It's like gelatin, so it slows down anything that pierces it at a high velocity." He frowned. "But that wasn't my question."

Ianto skirted his eyes away. Jack narrowed his own. He knew that evasive technique. Ianto wasn't telling him something, and didn't look like he wanted to.

When it came to Ianto, Jack had to pick and pry to get underneath the mask the young man seemed fond of wearing. Ianto wasn't like Gwen. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and mostly everyone knew exactly where they stood with her. Piss her off and Gwen would bite your head off. Ianto, on the other hand, did all he could to keep every single emotion he felt bottled up inside until he exploded. Jack was learning how to catch Ianto's moods, but it wasn't easy.

But that evasive look? That was one of the things he learned early on about Ianto. He shifted his eyes slightly, never looking at Jack straight in the eye, always at the bridge of his nose or around his eyebrows to make it look like he did. Jack never called him on it because he knew Ianto would try to avoid doing it in the future. Jack was not about to give away what was practically his only advantage in reading his young lover.

"Ianto." Jack grabbed Ianto's chin. "Are you okay?"

He huffed and straightened, as if that would make him look far more energetic than he truly was. "I got dizzy."


"Yes, dizzy. Head spinning, vertigo—" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I dropped my gun and the noise gave my position away. Barely had time to grab it before it found me."

There was more. Jack could tell that Ianto wasn't telling the whole story by the way he kept avoiding his gaze. Did something else happen? Gwen returned before he could ask, but he shot Ianto a look that said this conversation wasn't over. Ianto pulled away, but his slight grimace told him the silent message was received.

"According to Terry, it went into the water." She holstered her weapon. "What happened?"

"It found me." Ianto shrugged. "I shot at it, but its flesh decided to absorb my bullet like gelatin. Something Jack had failed to mention."

"I said bullets wouldn't work. Same difference."

They left the abandoned building, the mission to retrieve the alien a failure for the moment. The Sakaloponuois looked human enough to blend in, and any extra features like the gills in its necks and the two fins on its back were easily hidden or explained. With crazy tattoos and extravagant make-up being used to modify one's body in this century, the most hideous of aliens could pretend to be humans in disguise. But eventually the Sakaloponuois would no longer be able to blend in once it opened its mouth. Their language involved high-pitched sounds that no human could make.

As he drove back to the hub, Jack glanced in the rearview mirror to look at Ianto who sat in the backseat. The young man's eyes were closed, his bottom lip trapped by his upper teeth. Such a little thing would have turned Jack on during any other occasion, but Ianto's face was ashen, looking very much ill, and when Jack glanced over his shoulder he noted the hand pressed tightly against Ianto's belly, as if he was trying to tell his stomach to settle down before it decided to spew all of its contents.

Jack knew his driving wouldn't win any prizes. He was fast, at times reckless, and it was a miracle that he hadn't crashed into anything just yet. Gwen and Ianto constantly complained in their own ways that they feared for their lives when he drove. Gwen was always grabbing onto the dashboard during his swift turns or Ianto was clutching onto his seatbelt during a reckless manoeuvre.

But his driving never caused anyone to get sick, so why did Ianto look like he was going to throw up any second?

First a dizzy spell and now nausea. Jack felt the slight curl of unease he had felt earlier expand to concern. Was Ianto sick? Jack tried to think back over the past few days to pick out any moments that would point at Ianto having an illness, but all he managed to recall were light-hearted conversations, a couple of alien chases, and Weevil hunting that ended with hot sex in the backseat of the SUV. At no point did Ianto seem sick in any way, and never did the young man mention feeling ill. Not that he would.

Jack wished Ianto trusted him just enough to mention the tiny things. Perhaps it wasn't fair to expect a certain level of trust when Jack kept many secrets of his own, but there were some secrets Jack couldn't expose in order to prevent paradoxes.

All right, yes, there were some secrets he kept that wouldn't risk world catastrophe if he shared them, but there were just some things he didn't want to talk about, such as his time as a reckless conman who charmed and flirted his way through scheme after scheme without an iota of guilt. He didn't consider that proper dating conversation or ideal pillow talk.

But there should be some level of trust between them, right? They'd managed to go out on a few dates, spend time together that didn't involve missions out into the city to find rogue aliens or misplaced alien technology. They'd grown closer, both emotionally and physically, since the devastation that Gray and John brought to Cardiff, and Jack comforted Ianto through the hard nights when the Welshman could no longer pretend that everything was all right in his world. Their relationship was still fragile at best, but Jack's attempts to solidify it should be enough to let Ianto know that he could approach him with something as basic as sickness.

When they reached the Hub, Jack said nothing while they unloaded the SUV. As soon as they entered the base, however, Jack pulled Ianto into his office and pinned him with a stare.

"What aren't you telling me? And don't think I didn't see your attempt to not throw up in the SUV."

Ianto slumped down on the couch that rested against the wall. "It's not a big deal." The exhaustion in his voice clearly told a different tale.

Jack sat down next to him. "What's going on with you?"

Ianto sighed and rolled his shoulders, as though trying to relieve the burden that sat on them. "I've been feeling a little off for the last couple of weeks: nausea at odd times, usually in the mornings, and dizzy spells that come out of nowhere."

"Have you spoken to Terry?"

"It's not a big deal," Ianto repeated, this time with an insistent tone in his voice.

"Your dizziness cost us an alien." Ianto winced at Jack's blunt reminder. It was a policy of theirs to not coddle each other when it involved Torchwood matters. The line between professional and personal blurred constantly with their relationship, but it wasn't nonexistent. "Have Terry take a look at you."

"It's nothing, Jack. It's probably stress."

"It wasn't a suggestion." Jack stood and held out a hand. "There's a reason why we hired Terry in the first place." He wriggled his fingers when Ianto hesitated. "You can either walk into the medical bay on your own two feet or you can be carried there thrown over my shoulder."

Ianto scowled. "No need for bloody threats." He nevertheless placed his hand in Jack's and allowed him to help him off the couch.

Terry was bent over a microscope, eye against the eyepiece while he held a pencil poised over an opened notebook laid next to it, when they reached the medical bay. The doctor was so absorbed in whatever he was examining that he hadn't heard the men's arrival.

Jack smiled brightly. "We have a patient for you."

The doctor started and spun around, glaring at them. "Bloody quiet, the lot of you. And what patient?" His eyes looked over their shoulders, perhaps expecting an alien behind them. Since hiring Terry a month ago, the only patients he'd seen had been aliens, dead and alive. The Sakaloponuois would have been the closest thing to a human Terry examined.

Jack pointed at Ianto. "One hundred percent human, Doc." He looked at Ianto. "Tell him your symptoms."

"I don't need you telling me what to do," Ianto grumbled.

Jack rolled his eyes. "He's been getting dizzy spells and nausea."

"For how long?" Terry removed the latex gloves on his hands and tossed them in the bin before taking out a new pair and putting them on.

"Couple of weeks."

Looking resigned, Ianto made his way to the medical table when Terry pointed at it. He hopped on and glared at Jack. "It's nothing."

"I'll be the judge of that, Jones. Take off your shirt."

Ianto did as told. "Make yourself useful," Ianto said, thrusting his tie at Jack. "Hold my clothes."

Jack automatically took the tie and the other articles of clothing Ianto gave him, but his eyes were on the pale skin Ianto exposed. He licked his lips when he saw Ianto's nipples stiffen into tight little buds in the cool air of the medical bay. Jack had had many lovers over his long lifespan, but Ianto was definitely the most gorgeous of his chosen lovers. If Terry wasn't there, Jack would have pounced, taking one hard nub between his teeth. He could remember the first time he'd done that to Ianto and the choked gasp that revealed his surprise at Jack's actions, and the pleasure he no doubt hadn't expected to feel from his nipple being sucked. Ianto had later admitted that he had no idea his nipples could be that sensitive.

It was a bit vain, but Jack took great joy in being Ianto's first in many of their sexual activities, most notably being his first male lover (there was nothing more satisfying than introducing a man to gay sex), but he found that he liked showing Ianto different sides of himself; broadening his sexual horizons, so to speak. That's why he enjoyed that small strip of leather around Ianto's wrist that he was now in the process of slipping off to hand over. A leather bracelet wasn't something that Ianto would normally wear, but it was just a hint of Ianto's wild side that truly came out when he was in Jack's bed.

Terry used his stethoscope to check Ianto's lungs and heartbeat before asking questions about his diet and what his exercise regime was. Jack held back a snort at the latter question. An exercise regime in Torchwood was running. A lot of running.

Terry drew blood from Ianto's left arm and when he turned away to do whatever he was going to do with the vial of blood, Jack moved close to the medical table and leaned forward until he could whisper in Ianto's ear.

"I think a full body inspection is needed, don't you?" He nipped at Ianto's earlobe and managed to flick at a bare nipple with his finger after wiggling his arm around Ianto.

Ianto slapped his hand and glared at Jack over his shoulder. "Stop it," he hissed. He glanced at Terry, whose back was to them. "And if you think you'll be seeing more than this—" He gestured his naked upper body. "—anytime soon, you have another thing coming."

"There is nothing wrong with making sure that you're okay." He pressed his forehead against Ianto's bare shoulder. "Especially now." He couldn't bear to lose anyone so soon when only a few of months ago he had cradled a dying Tosh in his arms in this very same area.

There was a long moment of silence before Ianto's hand was cradling his head, arm awkwardly angled. "Maybe if you're good, I'll let you use my mouth in your office to get off."

Ianto's words were hushed so only Jack could hear, but they made him smile.

"You said Ianto was one hundred percent human, right?"

Jack lifted his head and nodded at Terry, who had turned around and was looking at them with a peculiar expression. Perhaps Terry overheard them, or maybe took note of their odd, albeit intimate, embrace. Terry wasn't informed that Jack and Ianto were together, but they didn't exactly put any effort into announcing their involvement to the world. They weren't hiding it; they just never really brought it up.

Their physical actions—a kiss, a touch, sex in the greenhouse where anyone could walk in—usually did the trick to inform people they were together, and that was enough. Thus far, Terry hadn't seen any of their more intimate physical actions. A shame, really. Jack could still remember Gwen's shocked expression when she had walked in on them having sex. Jack could only imagine how Terry would react.

"Yes," Ianto responded to Terry's question. "Born and bred right here in Cardiff by two very human parents."

Terry drummed his fingers on the counter behind him. "Something's going on with your blood. It has a hormone called hCG, short for human chronic gonadotropin." He paused and looked at them both.

"I have no idea what that is." Ianto looked at Jack. "Do you?"

Jack shook his head. His concern suddenly upgraded to outright worry. He took comfort in the fact that Terry didn't look worried, simply perplexed. Surely if something was terribly wrong with Ianto's health, the redhead would look grimmer. He nodded at Terry to continue.

"That's a hormone that is only supposed to appear in the blood of women." Another pause, as though he was waiting for them to get what he was trying to say. Jack was blank. What did a hormone in women have to do with Ianto? Terry finally added, "Pregnant women."

Well, shit.

Jack thought he heard wrong. He must have heard wrong. That was the only explanation, because if he had heard right, Terry was telling him a hormone that pregnant women had was running in Ianto's blood, which meant—

Impossible. Had to be impossible. Maybe he was seeing too deeply into it. Or maybe this was some joke. A prank.

He stared at the doctor, waiting for the punch line. There was none, just that same perplexed stare. Terry couldn't possibly mean . . .

"So what are you saying?" Ianto's voice was odd, apprehensive and just a bit disbelieving.

"What I'm saying is that according to your blood, you're pregnant."

Ianto kept his eyes on the bland ceiling of the medical bay. There were a couple of cracks in the otherwise pristine paint and he wondered if he should fix that. Not that anyone would care. Terry certainly hadn't mentioned anything, and if the doctor didn't care then Ianto shouldn't worry.

Thinking of the ceiling, however, kept his mind off the scan Terry was currently performing to confirm his impossible diagnosis that Ianto had a baby inside him.

Well, maybe not a baby just yet. Embryo. Or was it foetus? When did an embryo become a foetus? Jesus, how long had the thing been inside him? He wasn't showing, so maybe not too long. Was it even alive? Didn't he need a uterus? And how the hell would it come out? Oh God, what if it wasn't human at all, just an alien embryo using his insides as a home to grow and develop and maybe try to eat its way out of him? Just what he needed, an alien growing inside of him.

He closed his eyes and turned his head away, as if that would be enough to keep the swirling thoughts away. He felt fingers in his hair, but ignored them as he waited for the result.

"No doubt about it, Ianto's pregnant. See here?"

He heard Jack make some kind of noise. Morbid curiosity made him open his eyes to seek out the monitor Terry dragged over. One long, slim, latex-covered finger pointed at the screen. Ianto saw a clear view of his organs, and if Terry wasn't pointing at it, he would have missed the tiny sac floating very close to said organs.

"And it's human?" Jack asked.

"Completely human. You're not too far along, Ianto. About a month, I reckon." Terry lowered his hand and spun in the stool he occupied. "Questions?"

Ianto couldn't take his eyes off the screen. "This is absurd."

"A year ago I would've agreed with you, but nowadays . . ." Terry shrugged.

"It has to be someone else's baby." Ianto looked up at Jack. "Like Gwen with the Nostrovite egg."

"Let's see." Terry tapped a few buttons on the keyboard beneath the monitor. The image zoomed in on the sac. A white circle surrounded the embryo and two small windows opened, revealing pictures of Jack and Ianto. Written text appeared under the two pictures. "Scan says that the embryo contains DNA from both you and . . . Jack." Terry's eyes widened, head swivelling around to stare at them both. "This is your baby. Yours and . . . Jack's."

Ianto ignored Terry's surprised stare and tone. "How is that fucking possible?" Ianto looked at Jack again for answers.

He didn't know why he expected Jack to have the answers to the anomaly that was resting inside of him, except that Jack was probably the only one who might know more about male pregnancy than anyone else. How many times did the immortal report that he would never get pregnant again? Ianto didn't necessarily believe it, but considering that there was an embryo inside of him . . . Fuck, he just wanted someone to tell him how the hell this happened.

"Human male pregnancy doesn't become possible until the forty-fifth century, but only with the aid of technology and advances in the medical field. No pure human male can become impregnated naturally." Jack looked at him. "Alien tech might have done this to you. Any accidents down in the Archives you refrained from telling me about?"

Ianto thought back. He was careful with the items he handled down there, making sure not to drop anything or open any locked machinery he didn't know about. Nothing had glowed, nothing had scanned him, nothing had latched onto his body. He shook his head.

"Maybe you had an accident without realizing it."

"And then had sex with you. Bloody brilliant." He laughed, the sound bordering on hysteria. Neither of the other men commented on it.

Ianto never thought that this would be one consequence of shagging Jack. He had prepared for diseases (one had to with someone as free loving as Jack), and until recently, he had always ensured that Jack never penetrated him without a condom in place. Ianto was a man; pregnancy was the last thing he worried about when he was in Jack's bed, and yet, that was the one thing that happened.

In some roundabout way, Ianto should have expected something like this to happen. When it came to being with Jack, whether it was as his employee, his friend, or his lover, something bizarre and completely impossible always happened.

"I knew I should have never allowed you to fuck me without a condom," he muttered. He really didn't care that he said it loud enough for Terry to hear. It didn't much matter with the sac inside of him, now did it?

"Hey, don't tell me that fucking without latex wasn't better than fucking with it. Didn't our sex life become much more intense without it?"

Ianto glowered, unable to say anything back without sounding petulant.

Terry cleared his throat, getting their attention. His green eyes were wide as they ping-ponged between them. "You mean you two are . . .?" There was disappointment in his eyes.

Ianto felt a sudden surge of irrational anger towards Terry, a result of the stress and the frustration at this newest predicament he found himself in (and maybe a hint of that jealousy that Ianto never fully managed to get rid of played a role in his anger as well). He was lying there with a foreign thing inside of him in which no one could tell him how or even why it ended up inside of him to begin with, and all Terry could do was look at them with sad woe-me eyes, upset that his precious hero was shagging someone else—shagging another colleague.

"Don't worry," Ianto sniped, unable to bite his tongue. "I'm sure he'll be willing to fuck you anyway."

"Ianto." Jack's voice was sharp, angry.

He didn't really care. In fact, it felt kind of good to finally speak his mind without censoring himself, and he felt very little guilt about the startled and embarrassed look Terry was giving him. He climbed off the table and grabbed his clothes, which Jack had left in a neat pile on the counter. "I need a minute." He shrugged off Jack's hand and shot up the stairs, reaching the main hub.

He heard Jack's footsteps behind him. "Damn it, Ianto—"

Still angry, confused, and so very lost, he spun around and shouted, "Do not follow me!"

Jack froze. Gwen, who stood up from her desk to see what the commotion was about, watched them with wide eyes. Ianto saw Terry climb the stairs to stare at him. It made Ianto acutely aware that it wouldn't help his case if he stormed out like a madman.

Ianto ignored the latter two and focused on Jack, making an effort to lower his voice. "Please, don't follow me." He saw the conflict in Jack's face. "I need to process this. I'll go home and process this, but I need to be myself. Please."

Jack didn't answer, but when Ianto turned and walked out of the hub, no one followed.

Ianto wasn't exactly sure if he was processing it.

He sat at his kitchen table, a cup of tea that has long since cooled sitting in front of him. He knew he should eat, but he wasn't sure what was in the fridge and doubted he could keep anything down anyway. He simply sat at the table and stared at the tan liquid in the porcelain cup. He wasn't a big fan of tea, but he wasn't a big fan of decaf, either, and he didn't need the caffeine that coffee would give him.

It wasn't often that Ianto got to stay home during the evening. More often than not, if he was at home in the evenings it was because he was seriously hurt and was forced to stay home, or because he was too sick to go into work, but it was never for leisure. That was one thing Ianto had learned right away about how different Jack's Torchwood was from London Torchwood. There was no such thing as normal working hours, and late shifts quickly morphed into overnight shifts on a daily basis.

Despite the free time he had now, he didn't have the energy to take advantage of it.

Since the moment he entered his flat, he's done his best to not think about his predicament. He dared not think about it. Just the thought that he was carrying a baby threatened to drive him into hysterics, and Ianto did not do hysterics. He was well known for his stoicism and was quite proud of his tight control over his emotions. The little outburst earlier was a mishap that he didn't want to repeat, not even in the privacy of his own home.

Ironically, not thinking of his predicament somehow led to thoughts about fatherhood in general. He had never expected to have children of any sort. With Lisa, there had been the possibility, but after Canary Wharf and his failure to cure her, Ianto knew children would not be a part of his future. He wasn't going to live past the age of thirty—he would be lucky to even reach that age—and his chosen lover was a male, and Ianto hardly considered himself father material. What would he do with children? Ianto was good at taking care of the team, but the team was made up of full grown adults. They were all raised, knew what they wanted out of life, and had their lives in order. Ianto took care of them in other ways that wouldn't affect how they end up in the future.

Not like kids. Kids needed guidance, rules, boundaries. What kind of guidance could Ianto give them? What rules were appropriate? And what boundaries would they need? Frankly, the idea of being a father made him break out in a cold sweat.

When he and Lisa had discussed children, Lisa had known that she would be a stay-at-home mother. No job in the world would be more rewarding than being a mother, she had said. That had left Ianto as the breadwinner, and their preordained roles in what they thought would be their future family had pleased him because he had figured that even if he turned out to be a bad father, at least his kids would grow up under the guidance of a good mother.

He heard the sound of keys unlocking his door, taking him out of his musings. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a long counter, and from his vantage point, he could see the door slowly swing open. Jack entered the living room, looking around until his eyes landed on him.

Ianto didn't bother with greetings. "I wanted to be by myself."

"You've been by yourself long enough. It's past midnight."

Startled, Ianto glanced at the clock hanging above the stove. Sure enough, it read twelve-fifteen, and he remembered sitting down at the table with his tea at seven. Hell, he'd been sitting at the table for almost five hours and hadn't realized it.

Jack walked into the kitchen and deposited a bag on the table before taking the empty chair across him and settling down on it. "I brought you a sandwich. I would prefer you eat something more substantial, but I doubt you'll be able to keep it down." He took out the sandwich and removed it from the wrapped packaging. He used a napkin as a makeshift plate and placed the sandwich on it.

"I'm not hungry." Ianto heard the petulance in his own words and cursed it.

"Don't care. You have to eat."

Ianto eyed him. "Why are you so calm about this?" There was no need to explain what Ianto was referring to.

"Pregnant men aren't new to me. Besides, I've seen so much out there that a pregnant man isn't high up on the list of things that can shock me." Jack clasped his hands together on the table. "What is a surprise to me is that the pregnant man is you." He nodded his chin towards the sandwich. "Eat it. I don't care if it tastes like ash."

More to shut the man up than any desire to give into his demands, Ianto grabbed the sandwich and took a tiny bite out of it. He tasted turkey and some sort of sauce that had his taste buds exploding. Suddenly ravenous, he barely restrained himself from attacking his light meal, settling for large bites until it was all gone.

Ianto got up to take out a chilled bottle of water from the refrigerator. He took a long swallow before facing Jack, who was studying him.

"I don't know why this happened to me," Ianto said after several seconds of silence. He leaned against the fridge and rolled the cold bottle between his palms. "It could've happened to you, or even Terry, but no, it had to happen to me, and that is fucking unfair."

"What else can you expect from Torchwood?" Jack laughed. "About the only thing you can expect is the unexpected."

"Don't." Ianto stared at the floor between his bare feet. He had changed out of his clothes as soon as he arrived home, and was dressed in nothing more than his pyjama bottoms and a robe to chase away the chill in the air. "This isn't funny. Don't make jokes."

"Right. Sorry." Ianto heard the scrape of the chair and Jack's boots were suddenly in his line of vision. He face was cupped and lifted so he could look into Jack's face, void of any other expression except concern. "This isn't the end of the world. There are options to remove it."

Ianto blinked. "There is?"

Jack chuckled fondly. "All the technology we have at our disposal, and you didn't realize that any one of those could take it out?"

No, he hadn't. He had been so concerned with having something that didn't belong inside of him taking residence in his stomach that he hadn't considered the options for taking it out. The singularity scalpel came to mind, the device easily vaporizing anything that rested inside another object—or human.

He closed his eyes in relief. Giving into a sudden urge, he straightened away from the fridge and pressed himself against the immortal, silently asking for reassurance. He smiled when Jack wrapped his arms around him. The utter calmness from Jack about the removal of the sac made him curious, though.

He tilted his head to look at him. "You don't want it?" Jack arched a brow. "The baby. I mean, you seem more than happy to get rid of it."

"I'm being practical. We're Torchwood. A baby doesn't belong in our lives." A shadow passed through his eyes. Ianto bit his tongue to stop himself from asking about it. "We're stretched thin as it is, and a baby will only complicate matters. Not to mention the risks to your health and body if the baby develops. We don't have the resources or advances that would ease the pregnancy. Assuming it could reach full term, of course." He ran a hand through Ianto's hair. "We'll talk with Terry."

Hearing the doctor's name reminded Ianto of how he had snapped at him earlier. Now that he was in a lighter mood, the guilt he had failed to feel earlier decided to make an entrance, and he flushed with shame. He lowered his gaze. "I need to apologize."

"No need. He understood. Said it was probably a combination of shock and hormonal imbalance."

"I don't have a hormonal imbalance." Ianto sighed. "And I don't have excuses. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"No, you shouldn't have." Jack nuzzled his temple. "You know you're the only one, right?"

Ianto knew what he was referring to. He simply shrugged.

"Ianto, I haven't slept with anyone else and don't plan to sleep with anyone else as long as I'm with you. You're the only one."

He wondered if that included Gwen, but decided not to mention it. Besides, his words weren't a guarantee of any sort. Jack may promise physical fidelity, but Ianto knew there was no such thing as emotional fidelity in Captain Jack Harkness's world. That was something Ianto could never have, and while he didn't need all of Jack's love, at the very least he wanted to be the one Jack loved the most. Reality told him that the proud owner of most of Jack's love was Gwen Cooper.

Still, he gave Jack a smile. "So there won't be any shagging between you and Terry when I'm not looking?"

Jack grinned. "The only shagging that will be done between me and him is if you're in the middle."

He accepted Jack's kiss and wrapped his arms around him. "Take me to bed," he mumbled against Jack's lips.

Jack did as requested and for just a little while, Ianto didn't have to think about anything at all.