Title: Comfort, with luggage
Summary: they both carry their own luggage; but they're comfortable together.
Ianto brought the car to a stop at the edge of a field on the Marches.
"Nothing yet," Tosh said, sitting beside him, anticipating his question and providing an answer.
"That's something, I suppose," Ianto said. It was just he and she here, in the car - Jack had insisted they take Torchwood's smallest car, since the trunk was the biggest - with no idea what they were going to be encountering in this pre-dawn hour.
It was entirely possible that Jack knew...about them, that is. After all, what Jack didn't know, was probably either fatal, or beyond the minds of men...or just not worth knowing.
Once the two of them were out of the car, they took a moment to stretch: nobody wants a charlie horse or tight muscle to get in the way of firing a shot that could save the world. As they stretched, Ianto's knuckles brushed feather-light against Tosh's. Neither said a word, for there was nothing to be said, only a moment to be savored.
Unhappy with her brief periods with Tommy, Tosh had hoped that Mary would have offered something more, something longer-lasting...and it'd turned out to be shorter still. In his unguarded moments, Ianto sometimes compared himself to Tommy: a veritable mayfly beside Jack. He knew Jack didn't know how to give up immortality, and Ianto wouldn't ask Jack to do anything like that, not even for him.
But the pressure had built up, in each of them. Toshiko Sato and Ianto Jones. Very much the odd men out in a defense agency full of odd ones.
The rising sun warmed them both as they made their way through the field. "Thanks, Ianto," Toshiko said. Not simply for the touch, but for the constant support, the coffee-filled chats during the graveyard shifts, and everything else.
"Thank you, Tosh," Ianto said. It was the same for him.
Sure they'd turned to one another. It was only natural. Gwen had proved the point with Rhys; and, in a way, Tosh had with Mary and Tommy: There wasn't anyone outside of Torchwood they could really talk to about what they did...well, maybe someone from UNIT, but if you're going to kiss under the umbrella organization, why go far afield?
They spent the day scouring the field and the surrounding area of the Marches. No aliens, no paranormal activity, no...anything. Just some songbirds, a rabbit, and two humans in the employ of Torchwood.
"You think this was Jack's idea of a date?" Tosh ventured to ask as they were packing everything back into the car at the day's end, once the sun had set.
"Possible," Ianto said. "Though I wasn't aware he knew the meaning of the word." In his experience, Jack was more direct, grabbing what he wanted when he wanted it. A date was a slow dance. "Not that I'm objecting."
"Nor am I," Tosh agreed.