Title: The Angel of Death (7/?)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, others

Rating: Starts PG. That's all I know.

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?

Summary: Far in the future, Jack meets someone he never expected to see again

Author's Note: I don’t know where this came from. I really don’t

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here; Part Five is here; Part Six is here

Jack punched his security code into the shuttle’s command console and threw the switch that took the small runabout through the pre-flight sequence. Keeping one eye on the screen, he pointed to a small locker on the floor under the co-pilot seat.

“Emergency rations under there.”

Ianto slid into the seat. “No need. Even if I had the same energy requirements as my brother angels, that little fracas wouldn’t have depleted my reserves.”

Jack set the course and turned it over to the shuttle’s automatic systems. “Why don’t you?”

“Have the same energy requirements? No wings. You can’t imagine how much energy an angel’s body spends on maintaining them. The Ylnagii needed an image that would convey instant trust, and most bipedal species have legends about benign winged creatures, so they compromised on the design.” He hesitated. “Why the name?”

Jack didn’t even try to pretend. “Anyone interested in my past can find out about Ianto Jones. Let them think I chose you because you remind me of him.”

“And do I?”

“Yeah. You do.” Jack turned to the screen. “Especially the sense of humour.”

Ianto nodded but didn’t say anything else. They sat in companionable silence as they watched the Toshiko get larger and larger on the screen. As the shuttle came within range, the ship dropped a section of her shields and retracted the shuttle bay doors. The shuttle landed smoothly into its cradle. They waited until the skid clamps had locked it in place before getting out.

“Jack, Ianto, could you come to control, please?” Tosh’s voice echoed in the space.

“On our way, Tosh.” Jack answered. “Emergency?”

“Not at the moment.”

They jogged to the control room. At some point it became a race, and they jostled each other for the lead in grinning rivalry. Jack suddenly felt lighter, less weighed down by memory and pain, fully present in the here and now for the first time in a very long time. As he entered the control room one step ahead of Ianto, he threw his hands up, laughing and wriggling his hips in a little victory dance.

A few seconds later he found himself face down on the tile as Ianto tackled him from behind. They mock-struggled for a while, rolling around on the floor until Ianto finally managed to flip Jack onto his back, straddling him and pinning his hands on the floor on either side of his face.

Jack felt Ianto’s weight across his thighs, Ianto’s breath ghosting over his face, and the sudden flash of arousal took his breath away. Looking into Ianto’s eyes he saw the same sudden awareness, the same cravings. He knew Ianto had to see them reflected in his own, and he felt both exhilarated and terrified.

“Ianto, don’t.”

“Is your memory of him so strong that you can’t see me?” Ianto whispered in Jack’s ear.

Jack clamped his lips shut to keep a sob from escaping. “Ianto, please don’t.”

Ianto scrambled to his feet. Turning his back to Jack, he stood at parade rest, back rigid, head down. The whole posture fairly screamed embarrassment. Jack stood up more slowly. He found himself unusually tongue-tied, but he knew he had to find a way to move them both past the moment.

“Ianto…”

“I am sorry. It will never happen again.”

Ianto’s voice was cold, each word etched in ice. Suddenly, Jack couldn’t tolerate the distance between them. “Ianto, damn it, listen to me. It’s not because I can’t see you. It’s because I see you too well.” Jack sighed. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone since him, and I’m not handling it very well, and I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Ianto turned to look at him and the brilliance of his smile took Jack’s breath away. “I can work with that. No, don’t give me that look. Barring a miracle I’m going to die out there, Jack. I know it and I’ve made my peace with it. But I’ll be damned if I die a virgin!”

A discreet little cough made them jump and turn in the direction of the Chula pilot's chair, where the Tosh web glimmered in a hundred different colors.

“I don't have a miracle, but I may have found us a wedge. Maybe two.”

“Start with the maybe,” Jack ordered, relieved by the interruption.

The hologram screen materialized already showing a map of Freeman's Dream, with the station at its center. “Ianto, did your briefing include information about negative space?”

Ianto's lids flickered, and Jack had the impression that he was accessing some archive inside his head. “Negative space is the name given by the Free Men to the areas of the asteroid belt that have moon-sized asteroids, some with atmospheres, in which there are no mineral deposits of any value. There are six negative spaces in the field, the largest of which is centered around Retirement, a dwarf planet two-thirds the size of Earth, with not only an atmosphere but also potable surface water.”

Jack whistled long and loud. “Don't tell me that's what the Corporation sold to the Amish group?”

“Corporation?” Ianto asked.

“The Corporation is the financial arm of the Shareholders. The Free Men like to pretend that every Shareholder is an equal member of the Corporation but the truth is that the lion's share of the financial power is held by the descendants of the four men who financed the original expedition. What the Espinosas, McPierces, Constantinouses, and Gowans want they usually get.”

“According to my contact in the Accounting department,” Tosh said, “the Shareholders believe that they have sold McPierce's Folly to the new settlers.” A bright red light appeared over a large planetoid on the edges of the belt. “The Amish believe they have bought Retirement.” Another light appeared over a larger round shape right in the middle. “The settlers do not seem to have specifically negotiated for security services. They seem to be under the impression that they are included in the purchase price. Interestingly, there is a clause in the contract that states the territory under contract, no specific name, reverts to the Corporation if the settlers cannot maintain their colony for more than a Common year.”

“Bastards,” Jack said. “Put a small group of unarmed farmers in unprotected space and let the Universe take its course.”

“Exactly.” Tosh's voice was prim, but there was an undertone of something darker. “I forwarded a copy of the contract and all adjunct documents and recordings to our lawyers in sh'Klickshee. They will file an injunction in the Coalition District Court. Of course, they will send all appropiate notifications to the Corporation officers,” she sounded very, very innocent, “just as soon as the settlers are in physical possession.”

Jack laughed. “Well done, Tosh mine. And the certain wedge?”

“I did a little look-see through the ship manifests on file at the Excise Office. The deep-sleep carrier is owned by the Carlson Corporation, but it flies under the flag of the People's Republic of New Cardiff. The skipper may be one of yours, Jack.”

“Which line?”

The star map in the holographic screen was replaced by a woman's face. She had fly-away masses of curly red hair, and a gently rounded face dominated by huge dark eyes. Her full lips were slightly parted, and Jack could see a small gap between the front teeth.

“Oh yes,” Jack said. “Definitely one of mine. What's her name?”

“Leah Davidson.” Tosh giggled. “I got in touch with her. It seems there are stories in her family going back for twelve generations. She's dying to meet you.”