Title: Fallout, Part Twelve
Author: Emma
Characters: A whole bunch of folk.
Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack in it!
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Author’s Note: This is the Eveready Bunny of fics. Kept me up until 1 a.m. yesterday until I wrote this.

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here; Part Five is here; Part Six is here; Part Seven is here; Part Eight is here; Part Nine is here; Part Ten is here; Part Eleven is here

            “What was that all about?”

 

            “Kathy straightened out my papers.”

 

            Jack frowned. “Papers?”

 

            “Driver’s licence, passport, credit cards, sundry legal items. She was very thorough. Somebody ought to tell the NHS that their computer security sucks.” He offered them to Jack. “Now you can hire me properly.”

 

            “Ifan Owain Jones?”

 

            “Rhiannon picked out the middle name. Great-grandfather. She says that way we can think of me as her cousin from Holyhead.”

 

            “Is that all right with you?”

 

            “Yes. It helps her cope. She’s been great about this,” he pointed at his temple. “I don’t want to cause her more pain.”

 

            “Ian… Ifan. About London.”

 

            “You’re going to rescind your offer?”

 

            “No! God, no!” Jack reached out impulsively but pulled back before making contact. “I’m going to need all the help I can get. It’s about living arrangements.”

 

            “I was planning to go flat hunting next week. Kathy has advanced me some funds… Ianto’s savings went to Rhiannon and she’s set up a trust fund for the kids’ education. I wouldn’t change that, even if I wanted to claim the money, which I don’t.”

 

            “I have another option. For all of us, not just you and me. A long time ago I bought a place in Wapping, by the river. I don’t even remember why, now. Sometimes in the nineties I was approached by two young guys. They were remodeling old places, turning them into luxury flats.  They didn’t have much money, but a lot of ambition. I traded them the building in exchange for two flats. They jumped at the chance. They’ve been using them as short-term, very expensive tourist rentals, but when I called them earlier they said we could move in immediately. They also have another flat for Kathy, if she wants it.”

 

            “Wouldn’t it be a security risk? All of us in one place.”

 

            “The little company is a monster these days. Fourteen or fifteen buildings scattered all along the river. We wouldn’t even need to see each other after hours if we didn’t want to.” Jack grinned. “You can have the one with the boat slip. You always said…” Catching himself, he turned away. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

            “Jack.” The touch on Jack’s shoulder was brief and light, but it was there. “It’s going to happen. Don’t beat yourself up about it. And I’ll accept the offer, with one condition.”

 

            “Name it.”

 

            “Let’s go shopping for a boat.”