Ianto Jones

[Private Entry]

He's gone.

Oh god.


He's really gone.

[Filtered to Torchwood]

The reports from DCI Swanson about music from the Ritz dance hall coincide with increased rift activity according to Tosh's new monitoring program. We're searching for patterns but the sampling is currently too small. If this keeps up for another day or two we should have some usable results.


[Filtered to Jack]
Tosh asks that if you investigate the site that you bring her with you so she can get some readings in person.

Also I've chosen out some C.V.s of possible replacements. I'll attach them to the email.

[Private Entry]

Sir,

I have decided to pursue a unique opportunity with the IOA. I will be transferring to the Atlantis outpost as soon as my security clearance comes through. I am very grateful

No.



Dear Jack,

I'm leaving. I'm going to Atlantis to be with Lorne. I love him.

I'll miss you.

No. Good lord, no.



Maybe I should just tell him to his face. "I know I said I'd stay but I lied."

No. There has to be a way that's not heartless.

[Private Entry]

Which is worse, being afraid he will be upset with me leaving or afraid he'll just say, "Goodbye, have a nice life"?

[Private Entry]

I've been thinking about what Martha said last night, about Lorne and I talking all night long.

Here's the thing for me: I've dated people I've not particularly liked. It happens now and again, that the attraction is stronger than the affection, but it never lasts long.

I like Lorne. I like being his big damn geek. I like that we have our own jokes and favorite subjects. I like that we're . . . intimate. Such a cheesy word for such a lovely thing.



So if he's so perfect, Ifan, why can't you leave Torchwood--no, don't sugarcoat it, why can't you leave Jack and go be with him?




. . . because I'd die.



No, I wouldn't die, I'd just feel that way.

God.

[Private Entry]

Last night, for the first time in a while, I shut down completely. I literally could not think. It wasn't like gibbering with fear with the cannibals; it was just . . . like all my higher functions ceased to occur.

If this is how I react just to the news of it, how am I going to react to the reality?


[Filtered to Jack]
Jack, are you free this afternoon? Want to go out to lunch? I need you.

[Private Entry]

I shouldn't be as surprised as I am, should I, that we can have a quiet talk and a drink together without me ripping his clothes off. The attraction is still there. I suspect it always will be. But it's not all that's there.

I think the part that shocks me most, though, is that I have to reevaluate what I am to him. All this time I've been assuming one thing, and now . . . I was wrong.

Interesting. Puzzling. But . . . not a bad thing.

I'm in Swansea.

I drove up early, got here about the time Mum and Dad were getting up, they fed me breakfast and I've spend the day tending to their computer, helping Dad change the oil in my car, playing Mum's piano (and recording it--I brought my laptop and a microphone and I have Audacity installed), and making bara brith with Mum.

I'll head back to Cardiff once it's done baking. I'll bring in a loaf to the Hub tomorrow.

[Filtered to Lorne]

I think they're worried about me. They both said I'm too thin (of course, Mum has been saying that since the summer I was fourteen and I shot up six inches), and while we were working on the car Dad kept starting to say something and then went back to singing along with the radio. And I think the only reason Mum wanted to make bread was to get me to stay longer.

I had a bad night last night. It shows. I'm taking care of myself, I swear, but they are convinced I'm not functioning well since I left London and there's not much I can do to convince them otherwise--particularly when I show up for no reason looking like shite, I suppose.

Anyway, I've recorded some piano for you. I was planning to go to the music practice rooms at the university but Mum's piano has a better sound.

[Filtered to Jack]

When you've got some free time there's something I need to talk to you about. Away from the Hub.

[Private Entry]

Euan asked me to stay with him last night: the birthing center kept Eleanor and the baby overnight and he wanted company. We haven't really sat down for a chat since I left London, and he wanted to know if I get what's up with Macsen (which I don't, but none of us do--I suspect in ten years he'll either be selling braided leather necklaces on a beach in Greece or counting his millions from having invented some universally beloved doohickey), and why I came back to Cardiff (I said work and he laughed for a full five minutes and then said, "No, really, Ianto.") and how I'm coping without Lisa.

I said I'm coping just fine, that I'm dating somebody. Two somebodies, kind of, so of course he wanted to know what that meant, so I explained about Jack and Lorne as best I could without going into too many details. He found this difficult to comprehend, but he's never really got the bisexuality thing anyway. ("So which one's the girl?" "They're both blokes, Euan." "So there isn't a girl?" "There's no girl, Euan." "But if you're bi, shouldn't there be a girl?")

It's easier to talk about relationships than work with family, anyway. I can't tell them about Torchwood. I wish I could, so they'd stop thinking I've given up.

Maybe I should join Macsen in selling braided leather necklaces.

[Filtered to Near and Sam]

Last night I told Lorne I love him. Well, what I said was "I think I love you" which is probably not what most people dream of hearing, but it's also the truth.

His response was less than heartening.

I think I could have reacted better; but as it was I was too embaressed to stick around any further and cut off the conversation, and then rang Jack, because what's better when you feel rejected than someone who'll never say no to you.

(Though to be fair Lorne didn't say he'd never love me--he just said he wasn't sure yet. Still. Not what somebody wants to hear back.)

Either way, I'm using Jack terribly though I doubt he minds that much. And now I have to wonder how I'm going to speak to Lorne again, having this between us.

In sum, this relationship thing sucks and I'm terrible at it. I even had a good long conversation with Martha over the weekend about my harem and she thinks Jack would be better for me as he's actually here, and . . . I wish somebody would just tell me "this person is right for you."

Of course, nobody knows that, do they? Not for other people, at any rate, and not always for themselves.

So. How are you?