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Dec. 6th, 2012 11:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Title: The Past Victorious
Chapter Title: Chapter 5
Challenge/Fest: LongLiveIanto Bingo
Prompt: Historical AU
Rating: T
Dedication: For
laligin
Summary: The Rift claims Ianto and sweeps him back into Cardiff's past. With a
bit of luck and quick thinking, he lands firmly on his feet, ready to
help the next wandering traveller and keep him out of Torchwood's
clutches.
Characters: Ianto and Jack
Contains: Homophobia
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
May 1875
Wedding season had arrived with fine weather, and Jack’s order books were full. He’d been operating from the shop next door to Ianto’s for nearly five years, and the business had gone from strength to strength. It seemed like there was a wedding every day from February to September, and outside that were the harvest, Easter, Christmas, Christening and even funeral cakes. Most people still baked at home, but Harkness had become the only place to buy cakes for the upper classes, just like Jenkins had been the only place to get their suits tailored for many years before.
Jack flipped the sign on the door over and turned the key in the lock to open it up, and dropped the counter behind himself as he went back through to the kitchen behind it. He kept a neat list of the orders pinned to the wall, where he had to pass it coming in or out, so he checked it over once and reached for a bowl and the fresh deliveries on the back table.
He heard footsteps upstairs, and a small boy soon hurtled into the kitchen and stood, looking sheepish in his bare feet, at the end of the table. “Can I help you in the kitchen today, Uncle?”
“Maybe later, Ifan, if your mother says so.” He pointed his spoon at the door and the stairs beyond it. “But only if you promise not to come in here in bare feet again.”
“I promise.”
“You promise that every morning, Ifan Bach,” Mary scolded him as she followed him into the room. “You don’t have your boots on, so you’re not helping Uncle Jack in the kitchen today. No ifs, no buts. You’ll learn one day, you will.”
Ifan scampered off back upstairs, away from hsi mother’s glare, and Jack found it turned on him instead. “I did say that it was up to you.”
“You encourage him too much, you do. It’s like having another son!” She rested her hand on her belly and shook her head. “I hope the Lord grants me a girl this time. I’m outnumbered enough as it is in this house, so I am. We need another voice of reason around here.”
“Well we have Ianto just next door...” Mary glared at him and he grinned back. She and Tommy had moved into the spare rooms in his apartment when their second son, Jacob, was on the way. They’d needed more space, he’d had more than enough, and Tommy had joined him in the bakery at the same time. An extra pair of hands both for the bakery and for looking after the boys had been a great help all around, and Jack loved the feeling of being part of a family again.
Tommy thunked to the bottom of the stairs, looking half-asleep as he always did - one of the perils of having small children that Jack managed to avoid by being on the floor below them - and brushed past Mary to start on his tasks for the day. Between them they got the morning’s batch of cakes into the ovens not far behind schedule, and Jack was just starting to decorate the previous night’s baking when the bell above the door rang.
A beautiful young woman hovered nervously just inside the threshold until she saw Jack, and then she hurried forwards to the counter. She was petite, short and slim, but with hands that spoke of hard work. Her dark hair was pulled up on top of her head, held in a high knot under a dark blue hat. Her dress was made of taffeta in the same dark blue as her hat, with a lighter blue underskirt showing through, and she wore one long white glove and carried the other.
“You must be...” he checked the list and smiled at her, “Gwynneth Douglas?”
“Yes, Captain.” She dropped her gaze to her feet. “I’ve come for Wendy Douglas’ cake. She’s my little sister; she told you I’d be coming?”
“She did indeed. She must be younger than I remember, though, to have an older sister as young as you.” He flashed her another grin and popped through to the kitchen to fetch the cake. It was almost ready, but he never spread the cream until the very last moment, and he told Gwynneth so. “You can’t underestimate freshness. I stay up all night to bake, if I have to, to make sure that everything is as fresh as possible.”
“You must not get much sleep.”
“Hardly any,” Jack agreed. “But there’s plenty of time for sleep later; I find that what’s happening now is much more important.”
“Right now?” She asked, eyes wide and flustered.
“Definitely right now.” He looked down at the cake again, gave it an expert twhirl and smoothed the cream off with his palatte knife, then placed the top layer on top deftly and laid it onto the plate that was waiting for it. “I hope you have a lovely day, Miss Douglas.”
“Thank you,Captain Harkness.” She took the cake from him and blushed. “It’s certainly had an auspicious start.”
****
Jack was in a good mood through the rest of the day, as they baked and iced and baked some more. As usual, they got enough done in the morning for him to spend the busier afternoon period in the shop front. At half past five he shut and locked the door, tidied up the unsold buns and pastries, checked the list for that night’s baking, and followed Tommy upstairs to the first floor parlour. Mary served cawl with thick slices of bread, Ifan said grace, Jacob kicked him under the table, and Jack settled down to watch them with an indulgent smile.
After dinner, the boys were ushered off to bed, and Tommy went with them to catch up on what he’d missed whilst he was in the bakery, leaving Jack and Mary alone in the parlour. She’d been giving him odd looks all through dinner, and it wasn’t hard to tell that she’d been waiting for the opportunity to get him on his own and give him some more strange looks.
“Alright,” he said, before the silence could drag out. “What have I done?”
“You’ve not done anything, really.” She smoothed her skirt down, made to get up adn changed her mind. “It’s just that Tommy was saying that you seemed to be getting on well with Gwynneth Douglas, he was. Said you were showing off a bit.”
“Mary...” He spread his hands and shrugged. “When do I ever not show off, really? I get on with everyone... apart from the Barry brothers.”
“I know you do, Jack.” She tutted and reached for her knitting. “I’m just saying, that’s all, that you probably brightened her day. She’s always been a shy one has Juliet’s girl, not like her sister. Wendy has always been the gregarious one, always getting into mischief and leading her friends astray. Oh, the things she used to get up to when she was a girl, you’d never believe it, you wouldn’t. Stands to reason she’s the first to be married - too young and with a story to tell, I’ll bet - but Gwynneth’s a lovely girl too.”
“Families are tricky things,” he said diplomatically. “And girls are even trickier.”
Mary shook her head. “Girls are only difficult compared to men, because you’re all so simple. Now get out and take Ianto his baking, will you? Get out from under my feet.”
Laughing, he did as he was told. He went into his rooms to change and then bounded down stairs into the kitchen to collect Ianto’s box of goodies. Anything that was left over at the end of the day got shared out between the two houses, and either Ianto would come to collect it or Jack would take it to him, so that they could have a glass of wine, read the papers, talk about the day’s business and wind down after a busy day.
Ianto was still in the back room when Jack arrived, measuring out fabric and making notes on his order sheets. It was a Saturday, and by far the busiest day of the week for either of them, but they were always shut on Sunday. They went to church because they were respected men of the town, and it wasn’t done to miss it, but they would both have rather spent the day catching up on work and then enjoying one of Mary’s big Sunday dinners before falling asleep in front of the fire.
“I’m nearly done,” Ianto assured him without looking up. “It’s been a pretty quiet day - has it for you, too?”
“Not really.” He leaned back on one of the counters and put the box down so he could count off on his fingers. “Five wedding cakes, two Christenings for tomorrow, three birthdays, and we nearly sold out of everything else, too. The weather was good, so I think a lot of people were going out into the country.”
“They’re keeping you busy, then? No need for Mary to send you off on wild errands?”
“No, although she is getting strange ideas.” He shook his head. “Had a customer come in to collect a wedding cake first thing this morning, and Mary seems to think that I’m interested in her - or should be, anyway.”
“Mary thinks you’re interested in someone who’s just got married?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “The bride’s sister. She’d tan my hide if she thought I was even considering getting involved with a married woman.”
Ianto looked up at last, curious. “And are you? Considering getting involved, I mean.”
“No!” He grinned. “Tommy’s just not used to my charming ways - he overheard me, that’s all. She’s half my age.” He dropped his voice and added, “And you know...”
“Jack.” Ianto cut him off, knowing what was coming. “Mary just wants a sister-in-law.”
“I know,” he grumbled, “but why can’t she work on you?”
Ianto sighed and folded the fabric away. “Because you’re closer, and everyone in Cardiff loves you - apart from the Barry brothers.”
He hummed. “Why do they still hate me?”
“Because they know you’re camper than Christmas,secretly. How the rest of Cardiff has failed to notice, I have no idea.” He lifted the lid on the box and peered at the contents. “These look amazing.”
“Only the best for you.” He smiled over at Ianto and nudged him with his shoulder. “Or whatever we have left over, you know how it is.”
“I see how it is.” Ianto nudged him back and grinned. “I’ll go and see if I’ve got a bottle of wine left somewhere, seeing as you’ve come all this way.”
****
Ianto came around during his lunch the following Monday, and perched himself on an unused table so that he could eat and talk at the same time. He was just visible through the door from where Jack and Tommy were working behind the counters, but the lunch rush was always busy and they barely had time to talk to him.
It was coming to the end of his lunch break and time for him to get back to work when the bell over the door rang, yet again, to indicate a new customer. Tommy was collecting the empty trays together and taking them through to the back room, which left Jack alone to deal with her. He turned to tell her he’d be a moment and realised that it was Gwynneth. “Oh, good afternoon.” He smiled warmly at her and leaned forwards on the counter. “How was the wedding?”
“Oh, it was beautiful.” She beamed and clasped her hands to her chest. “And the cake was wonderful, everyone said so. Wendy was so pleased with it.”
“I’m glad.” He hesitated for a moment and then pushed away from the counter to serve one of his regulars who was already waiting. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Miss.”
Mrs Taylor tutted at these young things, but Jack already had her order ready to pass over, which mollified her and sent her on her way with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. Jack poked his head into the back room to make sure that Ianto and Tommy were alright in there, and then turned his full attention back to Gwynneth, who was hovering uncertainly in front of the counter.
“You’re a very busy man, Captain. I shouldn’t...”
“It’s more than fine,” he assured her. “I’m sure I can cope with the pleasure of your company.”
She blushed at that, and fumbled with her gloves. “But I should... make a decision, at least,” she finished with a nervous laugh. “Everything looks so good - oh! Mother said she wanted some more of your cakes after the wedding, so I came down.”
“Well then.” Jack looked along the counter and then reached for a paper bag. “What does she like? Fruit, a lot of sugar, apples?”
“Oh, she loves apples.”
“How about a couple of apple turnovers, then?” When she nodded he scooped a pair into the bag and placed them on the counter. “Anything else?”
“Oh...”She bit her lower lip and stared at the Chelsea buns, but eventually shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He ignored her and popped one of the Chelsea buns into another paper bag and placed that with the others. “My treat.”
“Oh! No, I couldn’t.”
“Please.” He passed them across to her and smiled winningly. “If only so you’ll come back and brighten the shop up again.”
Gwynneth accepted them, blushing fiercely, and thanked him profusely. Se scuttled from the shop with one last smile at him, and then the door closed with another jingle. The lunch rush was well and truly over, and the pressure was off for another day. Tommy called out that he was going out with the deliveries, and Jack tidied the counter up before heading through to the back.
He was still chuckling when he wandered into the kitchen, but stopped abruptly when he saw the look Ianto was giving him. “What?” he asked defensively. “What have I done?”
“You gave her free buns,” Ianto said slowly.
Jack shrugged. “I give lots of people free buns.”
“Never on their first visit,” Ianto pointed out. “And not usually so...” he sighed. “Jack, you were flirting with her.”
He scowled. “And what has this got to do with you?” Good mood gone, he grabbed the bowl of dough and tipped it out onto the counter to start kneading it. “She’s a nice girl who needs more confidence.”
“She’s a Victorian girl, Jack,” Ianto snapped. “You know how different it is to where you’re from, where I’m from. If you flirt they think you mean it.”
“And what if I do? What if I want to flirt for real, and make someone smile every day, because the deities know that I can’t just keep waiting for you.” He took a deep breath and cheacked over his shoulder, but all was silent. “In short, Ianto, now might be a bad time to get posessive, don’t you think?”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Just for once, Jack, it is all about you, and about the things you don’t want to think about. Five years you’ve been here, and you’ve not aged a day, have you?” He stood up and made for the door, straight past Jack. “One of you is going to get your heart broken, sooner or later, and I know you too well to think it’ll be you.”
He waited until the door had opened and closed again before he unclenched his fists and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. Ianto was right - five years and nothing had changed.
****
He went to bed early that night, only to find that he could do nothing but stare at the ceiling and the guttering light from the gas lamp outside the window. Rain started splattering against the glass, and he dragged himself out of bed to watch it running down the panes and pooling on the wooden frame. In a fit of pique he redressed, pulled on his coat and slipped downstairs, confident of being unheard as Mary and Tommy were on the floor above him, and let himself out onto the wet street.
The light from the lamp reflected off the pools of water on the floor, and Jack kicked a stone into them to disturb the reflection. He turned to look at Ianto's flat, where an upstairs light still glowed, and then turned away and walked towards the castle and the river.
The town was nearly deserted, but chinks of light still showed around windows, including at the shuttered pub on the corner. He smiled to himself as he passed it and resisted the urge to knock on the shutters and give them a fright. A policeman came past in the other direction and nodded his greeting to Jack, carefully ignoring the lights from the pub. They carried on in opposite directions, and Jack's wanderings brought him to the bridge beside the castle. Below him the water lapped quietly against the pillars, rising on the incoming tide, and the reflections of the bridge shimmered in the current.
He sighed heavily, and then again. It did nothing to shift his melancholy, and the weight of the darkness seemed to press in around him. Heading back towards the castle, he turned left into the parklands behind it, and walked for hours between the young trees. They were full of blossom at this time of year, and although the darkness hid them he could smell the wet grass and the sweet odour of the flowers on the breeze. It stopped raining eventually, and a soft silence descended in the darkness, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts.
Just as dawn started to touch the horizon he turned back, and he reached the shop before even the delivery boys were awake. It was nearly the solstice, so the night had been short and the day would be long. Down at the docks the fishermen would be bringing in their catch, and the city would start to awaken in the next hours, but for now he had it to himself. He got the night's baking out of the ovens and set it to cool on the counter, mixed and weighed and prepared and kneaded and rolled the day's work out.
Tommy came to join him an hour or so later, and looked at him strangely when he found him already there and working on a tray of cream horns. He didn't say anything about it, though, and got to work in his usual silent manner. The deliveries came, they sorted and stored them, Mary called them for breakfast and the day rolled on to opening time.
They got a lull in the mid-morning, between the early errand runs and the lunch rush, whilst the streets quieted and everyone went about their business. Jack helped Tommy to clear the trays and get the fresh ones, putting the new baking into the oven to get ready for lunch, but found that he was distracted and absent enough to burn his hand on the oven.
He cursed and ran it under the tap, staring at the reddened skin, and shook his head as he wrapped it up. "Can you cope on your own for a bit? I just need to..."
"Go and sort things out with Ianto," Tommy told him. He laughed when Jack did a goldfish impression and shook his head. "Mary heard raised voices, and you were right out of it last night. Figure that he's the reason for your early morning. He's probably right, whatever you disagreed about. Can't imagine what it would be to see you two argue, though; you're like brothers."
"Oh, and you never argued with your brother?" Jack asked him dubiously.
"I did, and sulking never fixed it."
Jack took the hint and left Tommy to it. He grabbed a box and put some leftovers from that morning in it, including the cream horns he'd set aside especially, and let himself out to go next door.
It was Jenny who greeted him in the front room with far more warmth and enthusiasm than he expected from Ianto. Mary’s sister had joined Ianto as a designer the year before, and now spent a few days a week there and a few days working from her mother’s house on her own dresses. She leapt up as soon as she saw him, chattering nineteen to the dozen. “Uncle Jack! Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come. Ianto said that he was going to come and see you today - seemed like you’d had an argument, but he won’t tell me anything - but I wanted to show you these.”
He opened his mouth to breathe, but he took too long over it and she thrust some of her sketches into his hands. “Jones the Gold came around,” she told him, “he’s just come back from London, you see, and he brought me a pamphlet with some new dress designs for the summer season. I had a look at them - right pretty they are, all lace and bright colour - and I had a go at doing these designs myself.”
When she paused for breath he jumped in. “They’re really good. I’m not sure they’d suit me, otherwise you know I’d model them for you...” She swatted him and laughed and he grinned. “But I’m looking forwards to seeing the finished works. I assume you’re working on them with Ianto?”
“Oh yes.” She took them back from him and went back to her messy desk to sort through the piles. “He’s talking of taking me to London, to see about getting me an apprenticeship there. London!”
“He’ll have to be careful, or you won’t want to come back.” He looked down at the box in his hands. “Is Ianto in?”
“Oh yes, he’s up in his room doing the buttons for Mr Carmichael’s suit - it’s a lovely red one, it is, and he does such neat stitching on it.” He hthrew her hands up. “Lord, Jack, you should stop me! Here you are, probacly only got a minute and I’ve been rabbiting on. Go on up and find him.”
He did as he was told, because it was safer that way, and knocked gently on the door of Ianto’s sewing room. It had taken a long while for Ianto to let him in there to see the array of mirrors and magnifying glasses, and even longer for him to understand it all. Ianto was there in the middle of it now, peering at his work, but he straightened up as soon as Jack entered and smiled worriedly. “Hi! I was going to come round. I just thought...”
“We were quiet, so I thought I should...”
“I didn’t know if you’d want me to...”
They both paused, waiting for the other, and then Jack laughed. “Sorry. I just came around to say that I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you, and you were right.”
“Funnily enough, I was going to come around and say the same thing.” Ianto bit his lip and gestured to a chair. “Go on, have a seat, and tell me how I was right about anything.”
Jack slumped into the chair and shook his head. “You were right that I was leading her on, that I’d got distracted and should have remembered where I was... and that I’m not normal, for want of a better word.” He pulled the bandage off his hand to reveal it completely uninjured. “I burnt this on the oven ten minutes ago, at most.”
Ianto reached across and took his hand, running his tumb across the back as he turned it. “There’s not a mark on you.” He held onto it and squeezed Jack’s fingers. “But I was wrong, too. You weren’t leading her on, and it was unforgiveable to suggest that you’d leave her if you had the choice.”
“I don’t think I’m going to get the choice.” Jack took his hand back and looked at it. “Neither of us gets that choice. If we weren’t here, now...”
“In another place and time, I’d have the right to be posessive.” Ianto caught his hand again, and for once he didn’t even check the door. “Jack, you have to know that if things were different...”
“If wishes were fishes, we’d never go hungry.”
Ianto leaned across quickly and kissed him. It was too short, too soft, and perfect. His eyes were closed when he pulled back, and he sighed. “I wish you knew how long I’ve waited for that.”
“Probably as long as I have.” Jack leaned in for another and then pulled back reluctantly. “Are we good?”
“We’re good.” He glanced at the door and smiled ruefully. “But we’ll have to be either very careful or very patient.”
Jack stood up and sighed. “And I’d better get back to work. Here’s your goody box - are you coming over in your lunch?”
“I better had, or tongues will start to wag.” He accepted the box from Jack and shook his head.”You’re going to have a very disappointed customer.”
“And I’m going to get told off by Mary, but you’re worth it.” He winked and backed out of the room. “See you later.”
“Only if you let me get this finished.” Ianto waved him off, and Jack bounded back downstairs and back to his own shop, much lighter of heart and happier than in a long time.
Chapter Title: Chapter 5
Challenge/Fest: LongLiveIanto Bingo
Prompt: Historical AU
Rating: T
Dedication: For
laliginSummary: The Rift claims Ianto and sweeps him back into Cardiff's past. With a
bit of luck and quick thinking, he lands firmly on his feet, ready to
help the next wandering traveller and keep him out of Torchwood's
clutches.
Characters: Ianto and Jack
Contains: Homophobia
Disclaimer: Torchwood and its environs, occurrences and persons belong to the BBC. The original characters have disowned me.
May 1875
Wedding season had arrived with fine weather, and Jack’s order books were full. He’d been operating from the shop next door to Ianto’s for nearly five years, and the business had gone from strength to strength. It seemed like there was a wedding every day from February to September, and outside that were the harvest, Easter, Christmas, Christening and even funeral cakes. Most people still baked at home, but Harkness had become the only place to buy cakes for the upper classes, just like Jenkins had been the only place to get their suits tailored for many years before.
Jack flipped the sign on the door over and turned the key in the lock to open it up, and dropped the counter behind himself as he went back through to the kitchen behind it. He kept a neat list of the orders pinned to the wall, where he had to pass it coming in or out, so he checked it over once and reached for a bowl and the fresh deliveries on the back table.
He heard footsteps upstairs, and a small boy soon hurtled into the kitchen and stood, looking sheepish in his bare feet, at the end of the table. “Can I help you in the kitchen today, Uncle?”
“Maybe later, Ifan, if your mother says so.” He pointed his spoon at the door and the stairs beyond it. “But only if you promise not to come in here in bare feet again.”
“I promise.”
“You promise that every morning, Ifan Bach,” Mary scolded him as she followed him into the room. “You don’t have your boots on, so you’re not helping Uncle Jack in the kitchen today. No ifs, no buts. You’ll learn one day, you will.”
Ifan scampered off back upstairs, away from hsi mother’s glare, and Jack found it turned on him instead. “I did say that it was up to you.”
“You encourage him too much, you do. It’s like having another son!” She rested her hand on her belly and shook her head. “I hope the Lord grants me a girl this time. I’m outnumbered enough as it is in this house, so I am. We need another voice of reason around here.”
“Well we have Ianto just next door...” Mary glared at him and he grinned back. She and Tommy had moved into the spare rooms in his apartment when their second son, Jacob, was on the way. They’d needed more space, he’d had more than enough, and Tommy had joined him in the bakery at the same time. An extra pair of hands both for the bakery and for looking after the boys had been a great help all around, and Jack loved the feeling of being part of a family again.
Tommy thunked to the bottom of the stairs, looking half-asleep as he always did - one of the perils of having small children that Jack managed to avoid by being on the floor below them - and brushed past Mary to start on his tasks for the day. Between them they got the morning’s batch of cakes into the ovens not far behind schedule, and Jack was just starting to decorate the previous night’s baking when the bell above the door rang.
A beautiful young woman hovered nervously just inside the threshold until she saw Jack, and then she hurried forwards to the counter. She was petite, short and slim, but with hands that spoke of hard work. Her dark hair was pulled up on top of her head, held in a high knot under a dark blue hat. Her dress was made of taffeta in the same dark blue as her hat, with a lighter blue underskirt showing through, and she wore one long white glove and carried the other.
“You must be...” he checked the list and smiled at her, “Gwynneth Douglas?”
“Yes, Captain.” She dropped her gaze to her feet. “I’ve come for Wendy Douglas’ cake. She’s my little sister; she told you I’d be coming?”
“She did indeed. She must be younger than I remember, though, to have an older sister as young as you.” He flashed her another grin and popped through to the kitchen to fetch the cake. It was almost ready, but he never spread the cream until the very last moment, and he told Gwynneth so. “You can’t underestimate freshness. I stay up all night to bake, if I have to, to make sure that everything is as fresh as possible.”
“You must not get much sleep.”
“Hardly any,” Jack agreed. “But there’s plenty of time for sleep later; I find that what’s happening now is much more important.”
“Right now?” She asked, eyes wide and flustered.
“Definitely right now.” He looked down at the cake again, gave it an expert twhirl and smoothed the cream off with his palatte knife, then placed the top layer on top deftly and laid it onto the plate that was waiting for it. “I hope you have a lovely day, Miss Douglas.”
“Thank you,Captain Harkness.” She took the cake from him and blushed. “It’s certainly had an auspicious start.”
****
Jack was in a good mood through the rest of the day, as they baked and iced and baked some more. As usual, they got enough done in the morning for him to spend the busier afternoon period in the shop front. At half past five he shut and locked the door, tidied up the unsold buns and pastries, checked the list for that night’s baking, and followed Tommy upstairs to the first floor parlour. Mary served cawl with thick slices of bread, Ifan said grace, Jacob kicked him under the table, and Jack settled down to watch them with an indulgent smile.
After dinner, the boys were ushered off to bed, and Tommy went with them to catch up on what he’d missed whilst he was in the bakery, leaving Jack and Mary alone in the parlour. She’d been giving him odd looks all through dinner, and it wasn’t hard to tell that she’d been waiting for the opportunity to get him on his own and give him some more strange looks.
“Alright,” he said, before the silence could drag out. “What have I done?”
“You’ve not done anything, really.” She smoothed her skirt down, made to get up adn changed her mind. “It’s just that Tommy was saying that you seemed to be getting on well with Gwynneth Douglas, he was. Said you were showing off a bit.”
“Mary...” He spread his hands and shrugged. “When do I ever not show off, really? I get on with everyone... apart from the Barry brothers.”
“I know you do, Jack.” She tutted and reached for her knitting. “I’m just saying, that’s all, that you probably brightened her day. She’s always been a shy one has Juliet’s girl, not like her sister. Wendy has always been the gregarious one, always getting into mischief and leading her friends astray. Oh, the things she used to get up to when she was a girl, you’d never believe it, you wouldn’t. Stands to reason she’s the first to be married - too young and with a story to tell, I’ll bet - but Gwynneth’s a lovely girl too.”
“Families are tricky things,” he said diplomatically. “And girls are even trickier.”
Mary shook her head. “Girls are only difficult compared to men, because you’re all so simple. Now get out and take Ianto his baking, will you? Get out from under my feet.”
Laughing, he did as he was told. He went into his rooms to change and then bounded down stairs into the kitchen to collect Ianto’s box of goodies. Anything that was left over at the end of the day got shared out between the two houses, and either Ianto would come to collect it or Jack would take it to him, so that they could have a glass of wine, read the papers, talk about the day’s business and wind down after a busy day.
Ianto was still in the back room when Jack arrived, measuring out fabric and making notes on his order sheets. It was a Saturday, and by far the busiest day of the week for either of them, but they were always shut on Sunday. They went to church because they were respected men of the town, and it wasn’t done to miss it, but they would both have rather spent the day catching up on work and then enjoying one of Mary’s big Sunday dinners before falling asleep in front of the fire.
“I’m nearly done,” Ianto assured him without looking up. “It’s been a pretty quiet day - has it for you, too?”
“Not really.” He leaned back on one of the counters and put the box down so he could count off on his fingers. “Five wedding cakes, two Christenings for tomorrow, three birthdays, and we nearly sold out of everything else, too. The weather was good, so I think a lot of people were going out into the country.”
“They’re keeping you busy, then? No need for Mary to send you off on wild errands?”
“No, although she is getting strange ideas.” He shook his head. “Had a customer come in to collect a wedding cake first thing this morning, and Mary seems to think that I’m interested in her - or should be, anyway.”
“Mary thinks you’re interested in someone who’s just got married?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “The bride’s sister. She’d tan my hide if she thought I was even considering getting involved with a married woman.”
Ianto looked up at last, curious. “And are you? Considering getting involved, I mean.”
“No!” He grinned. “Tommy’s just not used to my charming ways - he overheard me, that’s all. She’s half my age.” He dropped his voice and added, “And you know...”
“Jack.” Ianto cut him off, knowing what was coming. “Mary just wants a sister-in-law.”
“I know,” he grumbled, “but why can’t she work on you?”
Ianto sighed and folded the fabric away. “Because you’re closer, and everyone in Cardiff loves you - apart from the Barry brothers.”
He hummed. “Why do they still hate me?”
“Because they know you’re camper than Christmas,secretly. How the rest of Cardiff has failed to notice, I have no idea.” He lifted the lid on the box and peered at the contents. “These look amazing.”
“Only the best for you.” He smiled over at Ianto and nudged him with his shoulder. “Or whatever we have left over, you know how it is.”
“I see how it is.” Ianto nudged him back and grinned. “I’ll go and see if I’ve got a bottle of wine left somewhere, seeing as you’ve come all this way.”
****
Ianto came around during his lunch the following Monday, and perched himself on an unused table so that he could eat and talk at the same time. He was just visible through the door from where Jack and Tommy were working behind the counters, but the lunch rush was always busy and they barely had time to talk to him.
It was coming to the end of his lunch break and time for him to get back to work when the bell over the door rang, yet again, to indicate a new customer. Tommy was collecting the empty trays together and taking them through to the back room, which left Jack alone to deal with her. He turned to tell her he’d be a moment and realised that it was Gwynneth. “Oh, good afternoon.” He smiled warmly at her and leaned forwards on the counter. “How was the wedding?”
“Oh, it was beautiful.” She beamed and clasped her hands to her chest. “And the cake was wonderful, everyone said so. Wendy was so pleased with it.”
“I’m glad.” He hesitated for a moment and then pushed away from the counter to serve one of his regulars who was already waiting. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Miss.”
Mrs Taylor tutted at these young things, but Jack already had her order ready to pass over, which mollified her and sent her on her way with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. Jack poked his head into the back room to make sure that Ianto and Tommy were alright in there, and then turned his full attention back to Gwynneth, who was hovering uncertainly in front of the counter.
“You’re a very busy man, Captain. I shouldn’t...”
“It’s more than fine,” he assured her. “I’m sure I can cope with the pleasure of your company.”
She blushed at that, and fumbled with her gloves. “But I should... make a decision, at least,” she finished with a nervous laugh. “Everything looks so good - oh! Mother said she wanted some more of your cakes after the wedding, so I came down.”
“Well then.” Jack looked along the counter and then reached for a paper bag. “What does she like? Fruit, a lot of sugar, apples?”
“Oh, she loves apples.”
“How about a couple of apple turnovers, then?” When she nodded he scooped a pair into the bag and placed them on the counter. “Anything else?”
“Oh...”She bit her lower lip and stared at the Chelsea buns, but eventually shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He ignored her and popped one of the Chelsea buns into another paper bag and placed that with the others. “My treat.”
“Oh! No, I couldn’t.”
“Please.” He passed them across to her and smiled winningly. “If only so you’ll come back and brighten the shop up again.”
Gwynneth accepted them, blushing fiercely, and thanked him profusely. Se scuttled from the shop with one last smile at him, and then the door closed with another jingle. The lunch rush was well and truly over, and the pressure was off for another day. Tommy called out that he was going out with the deliveries, and Jack tidied the counter up before heading through to the back.
He was still chuckling when he wandered into the kitchen, but stopped abruptly when he saw the look Ianto was giving him. “What?” he asked defensively. “What have I done?”
“You gave her free buns,” Ianto said slowly.
Jack shrugged. “I give lots of people free buns.”
“Never on their first visit,” Ianto pointed out. “And not usually so...” he sighed. “Jack, you were flirting with her.”
He scowled. “And what has this got to do with you?” Good mood gone, he grabbed the bowl of dough and tipped it out onto the counter to start kneading it. “She’s a nice girl who needs more confidence.”
“She’s a Victorian girl, Jack,” Ianto snapped. “You know how different it is to where you’re from, where I’m from. If you flirt they think you mean it.”
“And what if I do? What if I want to flirt for real, and make someone smile every day, because the deities know that I can’t just keep waiting for you.” He took a deep breath and cheacked over his shoulder, but all was silent. “In short, Ianto, now might be a bad time to get posessive, don’t you think?”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Just for once, Jack, it is all about you, and about the things you don’t want to think about. Five years you’ve been here, and you’ve not aged a day, have you?” He stood up and made for the door, straight past Jack. “One of you is going to get your heart broken, sooner or later, and I know you too well to think it’ll be you.”
He waited until the door had opened and closed again before he unclenched his fists and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. Ianto was right - five years and nothing had changed.
****
He went to bed early that night, only to find that he could do nothing but stare at the ceiling and the guttering light from the gas lamp outside the window. Rain started splattering against the glass, and he dragged himself out of bed to watch it running down the panes and pooling on the wooden frame. In a fit of pique he redressed, pulled on his coat and slipped downstairs, confident of being unheard as Mary and Tommy were on the floor above him, and let himself out onto the wet street.
The light from the lamp reflected off the pools of water on the floor, and Jack kicked a stone into them to disturb the reflection. He turned to look at Ianto's flat, where an upstairs light still glowed, and then turned away and walked towards the castle and the river.
The town was nearly deserted, but chinks of light still showed around windows, including at the shuttered pub on the corner. He smiled to himself as he passed it and resisted the urge to knock on the shutters and give them a fright. A policeman came past in the other direction and nodded his greeting to Jack, carefully ignoring the lights from the pub. They carried on in opposite directions, and Jack's wanderings brought him to the bridge beside the castle. Below him the water lapped quietly against the pillars, rising on the incoming tide, and the reflections of the bridge shimmered in the current.
He sighed heavily, and then again. It did nothing to shift his melancholy, and the weight of the darkness seemed to press in around him. Heading back towards the castle, he turned left into the parklands behind it, and walked for hours between the young trees. They were full of blossom at this time of year, and although the darkness hid them he could smell the wet grass and the sweet odour of the flowers on the breeze. It stopped raining eventually, and a soft silence descended in the darkness, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts.
Just as dawn started to touch the horizon he turned back, and he reached the shop before even the delivery boys were awake. It was nearly the solstice, so the night had been short and the day would be long. Down at the docks the fishermen would be bringing in their catch, and the city would start to awaken in the next hours, but for now he had it to himself. He got the night's baking out of the ovens and set it to cool on the counter, mixed and weighed and prepared and kneaded and rolled the day's work out.
Tommy came to join him an hour or so later, and looked at him strangely when he found him already there and working on a tray of cream horns. He didn't say anything about it, though, and got to work in his usual silent manner. The deliveries came, they sorted and stored them, Mary called them for breakfast and the day rolled on to opening time.
They got a lull in the mid-morning, between the early errand runs and the lunch rush, whilst the streets quieted and everyone went about their business. Jack helped Tommy to clear the trays and get the fresh ones, putting the new baking into the oven to get ready for lunch, but found that he was distracted and absent enough to burn his hand on the oven.
He cursed and ran it under the tap, staring at the reddened skin, and shook his head as he wrapped it up. "Can you cope on your own for a bit? I just need to..."
"Go and sort things out with Ianto," Tommy told him. He laughed when Jack did a goldfish impression and shook his head. "Mary heard raised voices, and you were right out of it last night. Figure that he's the reason for your early morning. He's probably right, whatever you disagreed about. Can't imagine what it would be to see you two argue, though; you're like brothers."
"Oh, and you never argued with your brother?" Jack asked him dubiously.
"I did, and sulking never fixed it."
Jack took the hint and left Tommy to it. He grabbed a box and put some leftovers from that morning in it, including the cream horns he'd set aside especially, and let himself out to go next door.
It was Jenny who greeted him in the front room with far more warmth and enthusiasm than he expected from Ianto. Mary’s sister had joined Ianto as a designer the year before, and now spent a few days a week there and a few days working from her mother’s house on her own dresses. She leapt up as soon as she saw him, chattering nineteen to the dozen. “Uncle Jack! Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come. Ianto said that he was going to come and see you today - seemed like you’d had an argument, but he won’t tell me anything - but I wanted to show you these.”
He opened his mouth to breathe, but he took too long over it and she thrust some of her sketches into his hands. “Jones the Gold came around,” she told him, “he’s just come back from London, you see, and he brought me a pamphlet with some new dress designs for the summer season. I had a look at them - right pretty they are, all lace and bright colour - and I had a go at doing these designs myself.”
When she paused for breath he jumped in. “They’re really good. I’m not sure they’d suit me, otherwise you know I’d model them for you...” She swatted him and laughed and he grinned. “But I’m looking forwards to seeing the finished works. I assume you’re working on them with Ianto?”
“Oh yes.” She took them back from him and went back to her messy desk to sort through the piles. “He’s talking of taking me to London, to see about getting me an apprenticeship there. London!”
“He’ll have to be careful, or you won’t want to come back.” He looked down at the box in his hands. “Is Ianto in?”
“Oh yes, he’s up in his room doing the buttons for Mr Carmichael’s suit - it’s a lovely red one, it is, and he does such neat stitching on it.” He hthrew her hands up. “Lord, Jack, you should stop me! Here you are, probacly only got a minute and I’ve been rabbiting on. Go on up and find him.”
He did as he was told, because it was safer that way, and knocked gently on the door of Ianto’s sewing room. It had taken a long while for Ianto to let him in there to see the array of mirrors and magnifying glasses, and even longer for him to understand it all. Ianto was there in the middle of it now, peering at his work, but he straightened up as soon as Jack entered and smiled worriedly. “Hi! I was going to come round. I just thought...”
“We were quiet, so I thought I should...”
“I didn’t know if you’d want me to...”
They both paused, waiting for the other, and then Jack laughed. “Sorry. I just came around to say that I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you, and you were right.”
“Funnily enough, I was going to come around and say the same thing.” Ianto bit his lip and gestured to a chair. “Go on, have a seat, and tell me how I was right about anything.”
Jack slumped into the chair and shook his head. “You were right that I was leading her on, that I’d got distracted and should have remembered where I was... and that I’m not normal, for want of a better word.” He pulled the bandage off his hand to reveal it completely uninjured. “I burnt this on the oven ten minutes ago, at most.”
Ianto reached across and took his hand, running his tumb across the back as he turned it. “There’s not a mark on you.” He held onto it and squeezed Jack’s fingers. “But I was wrong, too. You weren’t leading her on, and it was unforgiveable to suggest that you’d leave her if you had the choice.”
“I don’t think I’m going to get the choice.” Jack took his hand back and looked at it. “Neither of us gets that choice. If we weren’t here, now...”
“In another place and time, I’d have the right to be posessive.” Ianto caught his hand again, and for once he didn’t even check the door. “Jack, you have to know that if things were different...”
“If wishes were fishes, we’d never go hungry.”
Ianto leaned across quickly and kissed him. It was too short, too soft, and perfect. His eyes were closed when he pulled back, and he sighed. “I wish you knew how long I’ve waited for that.”
“Probably as long as I have.” Jack leaned in for another and then pulled back reluctantly. “Are we good?”
“We’re good.” He glanced at the door and smiled ruefully. “But we’ll have to be either very careful or very patient.”
Jack stood up and sighed. “And I’d better get back to work. Here’s your goody box - are you coming over in your lunch?”
“I better had, or tongues will start to wag.” He accepted the box from Jack and shook his head.”You’re going to have a very disappointed customer.”
“And I’m going to get told off by Mary, but you’re worth it.” He winked and backed out of the room. “See you later.”
“Only if you let me get this finished.” Ianto waved him off, and Jack bounded back downstairs and back to his own shop, much lighter of heart and happier than in a long time.
