The Past Victorious 6
Dec. 7th, 2012 11:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Title: The Past Victorious
Chapter Title: Chapter 6
Challenge/Fest: LongLiveIanto Bingo
Prompt: Steampunk
Rating: T
Dedication: For
laligin, and thanks to the awesome Cardiff Story museum.
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.
I'm going to have to stop posting here until tomorrow, because I need a slightly bigger screen to wrangle the start of the next story. This posting does bring us tot the close of the Past Victorious.
Towards the end of summer, they made their annual trip to London, taking Jenny with them for the first time. She'd never visited the city before, and was buzzing with excitement for a week before, from the moment that Ianto told her she was coming with them.
She chattered nineteen to the dozen, all the way from Cardiff to London, and Jack and Ianto had to field questions about everything remotely related to London, it seemed. They both had to check themselves more than once, having visited London several times in the future - Ianto had lived there for a while, after all, and some of the things he remembered most clearly about the city wouldn't be there for a century, whilst some of his favourite things to visit now would be long gone by the time he was born.
They had no appointments until the following day, both because of the long journey and because they wanted to make it as special as possible for Jenny. Jack treated them to a carriage ride around the centre of the city in one of the open-top carriages favoured by tourists. The sun shone brightly on them and flashed through the leaves as their driver took them through Hyde Park, and Jack used Jenny's distraction to press his leg up against Ianto's.
It wasn't like it was particularly risky, quite honestly. Young men strolled through the park arm-in-arm quite happily, and no one even considered that they were anything more than friends. To their futuristic and paranoid minds, though, that brief contact was all they could allow themselves.
They took afternoon tea at the Ritz, and then took another cap out to Covent Garden to stroll through the market, where Jenny and Ianto could coo over fabrics and threads, and Jack could try new ingredients and cakes. After dinner, taken in a cosy pub, they went to the theatre, and finally returned to their hotel hours after they meant to, when it was long since dark.
Jenny went straight to her room after bidding them a quiet goodnight, looking thoroughly worn out and still glowing with excitement. Jack and Ianto had found long ago that sleep was optional, and they took to the window seat in their shared room to look out across the city at the smoke and the scattered gaslights.
"I always forget just how frenetic it is," Ianto said at last. "When I remember London I think of glass and concrete and the mad press of humanity, but it's just as busy now. And so polluted! I thought it was bad in the future."
"You can hardly breathe," Jack agreed. He lounged against the window and raised his glass in a toast. "To London."
Ianto joined him in the toast and finished the last of his drink. He went to get another in silence, and when he returned he sat closer to Jack, with his arm lightly around his waist. "I wish there were somewhere we could go that's safe for us. Somewhere we can live without being a risk to everyone around us."
"I think the closest place is the future." He leaned back against him and sighed heavily, and Ianto took his empty glass from his hand and refilled it. "I'll wait as long as it takes."
"That's not what you said once," Ianto pointed out.
"I was upset, it doesn't count." He turned his head and found Ianto coming to meet him halfway. They kissed softly, tasting of good whisky and tobacco smoke, lost in the press of lips and brush of tongues.
Ianto pulled away eventually and rubbed his nose against Jack's cheek. "I don't know what to do," he confessed. "We've been in Cardiff too long already, but I can't bear to leave."
"That's why we know we've been here too long." He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall beside the window. He could feel the cold of the glass on his skin, and knew that autumn was on its way. The leaves would soon turn colour and fall to blanket the streets, then the frost would come and turn the wet cobbles to ice under their feet. Another year would turn, taking their friends with it, and nothing would change for them. Mary's daughter had arrived at the height of summer, and the boys were growing fast. Soon she'd be running around with them. For now she was keeping the house awake at nights, and Jack had seized the excuse to move back in with Ianto, at least for a while.
"Let's go to Paris," Ianto blurted suddenly. "I still have friends there. We could spend a year there, maybe more, call it research and come back refreshed."
Jack watched Ianto's reflection in the window. "Are you sure you want to do that? We'd miss so much..."
"We're going to have to leave them eventually." Ianto sighed and held Jack tighter. "Better to buy ourselves a little time now, surely?"
He hesitated, but nodded his agreement. "We'll play it by ear, see if an opportunity arises over the next few days. If not, we'll start thinking about how to make one."
****They left Cardiff in the New Year, once Jack had fulfilled his Christmas contracts and Ianto had helped Jenny to do the costumes for the city’s pantomime. There always seemed to be something to stop them, some excuse they could find, but eventually Ianto booked them a journey that would take them all the way to Paris and presented Jack with the tickets, and it was settled.
The night before they left, Mary and Jenny cooked dinner in the big kitchen at the bakery, and they squeezed the whole family around the table in the parlour upstairs. Jack sat with baby Alice in his arms and Jacob next to him, with Ianto on his other side and Ifan beyond him. At the other end of the table, Tommy presided over a large roast chicken, whilst Mary and Jenny’s mother, who had given excellent if unneccesary instruction in the kitchen all day, looked somewhat overwhelmed, and a little put out that it appeared her daughter wouldn’t be marrying Ianto after all.
"Oh, we’ll miss you so," Jenny sniffled when they’d eaten. "Do you have to go?"
"We do now," Jack teased her gently. "Our tickets are booked and everything is arranged." He was surprised a moment later when she threw herself into his arms and started crying - fortunately he’d handed Alice back to Mary as soon as she had her hands free - and he patted her hair and crooned to her softly. "Hey now, what’s these tears? We’ll hardly be gone long enough for you to notice."
"I always thought you’d go home," she sobbed, "back to America, or to your adventures in India. I didn’t think we’d lose you both together."
Ianto reached over and brushed her hair back from her face. "I couldn’t let him go alone, could I? There’s no knowing the scrapes he’d get into."
She cried harder at that, but she was smiling at last. "Will you write to us? Even if you don’t stay in Paris and you decide to go to India, will you write?"
"You need to stop planting ideas in their heads, you do," Mary scolded her. Her voice was shaky, though, and she let Ianto wrap an arm around her shoulders and hug her close. "They’re not allowed to go to India," she sniffed, "without me!"
Ianto released her and went to the dresser, which he opened to extract a thick sheaf of papers. "These are our wills," he told them quietly. "If anything should happen to us - if the boat sinks or the hotel burns down or we get run down by rampaging horses..." He pulled a wry smile and added, "Not that it will, we hope. But if anything does happen, we’re leaving the business to you - to Mary and Jenny."
They stared at him, and their mother fluttered. "I don’t think that’s quite..."
"It’s legal." Jack spread his hands and smiled widely. "And I’m sure Mary will let Tommy help out around the place. Mary and Jenny, you’ve done so much for us and with us, and we want it to be you who takes the businesses on if we can’t. We trust your judgement."
Tommy nodded his agreement, and Jack relaxed slightly. "I do as Mary tells me anyway," he grumbled good-naturedly. "We all trust her."
Ianto raised his glass and smiled. "To Mary and Jenny, then. And to the hope it never comes to that."
"Just to note, though, we won’t be changing our wills unless we find some women to make honest men out of us," Jack added, raising his glass as well. "So no going and dying before us, alright? To Mary and Jenny."
"And to Jack and Ianto." They all looked to Tommy, who raised his glass to join them. "And to their Paris adventure."
****
A warm breeze blew in off the English Channel and brought withit the smell of sea salt and the cry of the gulls that wheeled above the fishing trawlers. The rock was warm against Ianto’s back and his toes dug into the sand below it. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was the clear blue of the sky, a bird or two, and the bright, warm light of the sun as it rolled towards its zenith.
Jack was humming to himself, snatches of tunes that hadn't been written yet and old folk songs they'd left on the docks in Cardiff. It was a fairly isolated spot between two tiny fishing villages, one of which was home to the pub where they were staying for a few nights, and the middle of the week so any children who might have rambled along the beach in search of shells and seaweed were in school. They had the area to themselves, apart from the birds and the insects that buzzed in the long grass on the dunes. It would have been hard for the scene to be more idyllic, really.
He sat up and stretched, regretting the preiod costume - his jacket was discarded on the rock behind him, but even though he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow he still found himself missing T shirts and shorts - and leaned forwards so that he could see what Jack was working on. He'd taken up painting again when they got to Paris and found himself with more time on his hands. If he went missing, which he always had from time to time, Ianto could usually find him by the river or one of the churches, sometimes across from the busy markets, painting and drawing. Their rooms were full of sketchbooks and canvases, both Jack's art and Ianto's fashion sketches. He also had stacks of pamphlets and magazines that he kept meaning to sort through, but there just didn't seem to be the urgency.
Jack had his sketchbook on his knee, and was using charcoal to turn the bright sunshine into a darker night scene. Or possibly just sketching with charcoal - Ianto wasn't really sure yet. He grunted when Ianto rubbed a hand down his back and tilted his head, but didn't stop drawing. "Woken up, have you?"
"I hope I wasn't asleep in this sun." He shifted a bit closer and slid his arm around Jack's waist, just for a moment. "I'm glad we came out here."
"Me too. We should buy a boat."
He blinked. "We should what?"
"We should buy a boat, go down to the Riviera, muck about in boats." Jack tilted his head back onto Ianto's shoulder. "Just for a little while. Then sail back to Cardiff."
"You're mad. Totally mad." He reached out and touched the boat that bobbed in the middle of Jack's picture. "But I like that about you."
They sat in silence for a while longer, leaning on the sand as Jack sketched, until Ianto finally said what they were both thinking. "We're not going back, are we? Not really." Jack said nothing, but stopped his work and covered Ianto's hand with his own, so Ianto went on, "We might visit them, but whenever I think of Cardiff now, I just think of it as a place I came from. Somewhere I had to get away from."
"We've got a long time to wait before we're accepted there, and I don't think I can wait that long." He sighed heavily. "I don't want to have to wait a century to tell the world I love you, but without a convenient time traveller..."
"Yeah." Ianto kissed the side of Jack's neck and returned to staring out to sea. "Better to keep moving, keep ahead of people noticing. It's not such a hardship, really. There's far too much to see out there to stay in one place."
Jack hummed again and resumed his sketching, adding a new shore on the horizon.
****
16/09/1876
Dearest Mary,
I hope you are all well, and that life in Cardiff is treating you well. The boys must be getting so big now, and even Jane must be nearly walking. When I think of them, it reminds me how much we're missing, how much we miss you all. It's certainly quieter without you all, and the quiet has got empty sometimes.
We went back to Paris for a while, but the rains came and the Riviera called. We bought a boat, hired a small crew, and we're due to sail with the tide this afternoon. The weather is beautiful, and the sea is so blue. I've included some of Jack's paintings, of the boat and the town and the coast - he's been busy the last week or so, whilst we've been waiting to sail.
I don't know how often we'll be able to write once we've sailed, or how long letters will take to reach you. The post service here is good, but Jack is hearing the call of the wild. I would dearly like to see the Pyramids and the city of Petra, and Jack has packed the hold with canvases and paints, which caused some raise eyebrows amongst our crew. I'm sure they'll get used to him, sooner or later. He's become quite popular around the town, actually, and has sold several of his paintings to restaurants and cafes. It's a little strange to go out for dinner in the south of France and sit under a painting of Cardiff Castle.
Adventure is in Jack's heart, and now he's started out I don't know if he could stop again. Cardiff was only supposed to be a stop for him, but we caught him and kept him. I miss home dreadfully, but I love him so and I'd follow him wherever he went. I can't imagine life without him now, so much so that it is easier to give up everything else in my life. He is my dearest friend, and I'm so glad I know him - even if he does lead me off into the wilds.
Morning is rolling on, now, and I can hear the harbour coming to life, so I must take this letter into the town and prepare to sail. I'm not sure how well I will take to life at sea, so do wish me luck.
Thinking of you always, and with all our love,
Jack and Ianto
Ianto signed the letter and left it out on the desk for Jack to sign, with the paintings they were going to send with it. Mary would never know how true his words were, but it still mattered that he told her. He bent to look out of the porthole at the light glittering on the water, and smiled to himself. It was another beautiful day, with a soft breeze and light waves that rocked the boat gently. Although he knew nothing about boats and even less about the sea, he thought it was going to be a good day to sail.
Their cabin, which took up the front end of the boat below the deck, was already cluttered with notes and papers and half-finished paintings across the two built in desks, and the bookcase was just as stuffed. Against the front wall they had set out the small table and chairs. It had two portholes on either side, each with a bed set under it, and a larger window at the front with the desks below.
Ianto shucked his shirt again and dropped it on the floor as he crossed to the bed on the starboard side, where Jack was sprawled with his back against the wall, half covered by the blankets. He lifted the blankets and slid in, pressing himself up against Jack and letting Jack claim a deep kiss.
They lay there, wrapped up in each other and lulled by the gentle swaying of the boat. Jack nuzzled at Ianto's neck, planting kisses down it gentle and across his collarbone. "We should get up," he muttered, thoroughly distracted. "God, I don't want to move."
"We have to find the crew before they find us." Ianto ran his hands up Jack's back and squeezed at his shoulders, hooking his leg over Jack's to pull himself closer despite his words. "Jack..."
Jack held him close for a moment and pulled back with a reluctant sigh. "You're right, as usual."
"As always."
They pulled themselves out of bed, and Ianto made it up whilst Jack dressed in loose linen trousers and a blue cotton shirt. By the time Ianto was finished, Jack was already heading up to the deck with the letters, leaving Ianto to find his trousers, his discarded shirt and his waistcoat. He'd made it himself in their rented rooms in the town, whilst Jack was out painting. It was a deep brown brocade with russet patterns shot through it, and copper-coloured lapels. The weather was far too warm for a jacket, so he pulled on his boots and let himself out into the mess, then bounded up the stairs to the deck.
They leaned on the rails together, watching the waves playing on the beach below the town, waiting for their crew to join them. A young turkish man called Muhlis was the first to join them, followed soon after by his compatriot and their captain, Genkal. They were joined by the two final crew members, Andros and Michel, and then all there was left to do was wait for the tide.
Whilst their crew settled in, Jack and Ianto went for a final walk around the town, to visit the post office and send their letters, buy breakfast and admire the view. Their boat bobbed in the harbour between a few fishing boats that weren't out on the sea, and the deep blue water was calling to them.
Jack chuckled and squeezed Ianto's hand. "You only offered me a room for the night. Regret it?”
"If I'd only know what I was letting myself in for, I would have approached you before you got drunk." Ianto smiled across at him. "I'd have to be mad to regret even a single second."
Chapter Title: Chapter 6
Challenge/Fest: LongLiveIanto Bingo
Prompt: Steampunk
Rating: T
Dedication: For
laligin, and thanks to the awesome Cardiff Story museum.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.
I'm going to have to stop posting here until tomorrow, because I need a slightly bigger screen to wrangle the start of the next story. This posting does bring us tot the close of the Past Victorious.
Towards the end of summer, they made their annual trip to London, taking Jenny with them for the first time. She'd never visited the city before, and was buzzing with excitement for a week before, from the moment that Ianto told her she was coming with them.
She chattered nineteen to the dozen, all the way from Cardiff to London, and Jack and Ianto had to field questions about everything remotely related to London, it seemed. They both had to check themselves more than once, having visited London several times in the future - Ianto had lived there for a while, after all, and some of the things he remembered most clearly about the city wouldn't be there for a century, whilst some of his favourite things to visit now would be long gone by the time he was born.
They had no appointments until the following day, both because of the long journey and because they wanted to make it as special as possible for Jenny. Jack treated them to a carriage ride around the centre of the city in one of the open-top carriages favoured by tourists. The sun shone brightly on them and flashed through the leaves as their driver took them through Hyde Park, and Jack used Jenny's distraction to press his leg up against Ianto's.
It wasn't like it was particularly risky, quite honestly. Young men strolled through the park arm-in-arm quite happily, and no one even considered that they were anything more than friends. To their futuristic and paranoid minds, though, that brief contact was all they could allow themselves.
They took afternoon tea at the Ritz, and then took another cap out to Covent Garden to stroll through the market, where Jenny and Ianto could coo over fabrics and threads, and Jack could try new ingredients and cakes. After dinner, taken in a cosy pub, they went to the theatre, and finally returned to their hotel hours after they meant to, when it was long since dark.
Jenny went straight to her room after bidding them a quiet goodnight, looking thoroughly worn out and still glowing with excitement. Jack and Ianto had found long ago that sleep was optional, and they took to the window seat in their shared room to look out across the city at the smoke and the scattered gaslights.
"I always forget just how frenetic it is," Ianto said at last. "When I remember London I think of glass and concrete and the mad press of humanity, but it's just as busy now. And so polluted! I thought it was bad in the future."
"You can hardly breathe," Jack agreed. He lounged against the window and raised his glass in a toast. "To London."
Ianto joined him in the toast and finished the last of his drink. He went to get another in silence, and when he returned he sat closer to Jack, with his arm lightly around his waist. "I wish there were somewhere we could go that's safe for us. Somewhere we can live without being a risk to everyone around us."
"I think the closest place is the future." He leaned back against him and sighed heavily, and Ianto took his empty glass from his hand and refilled it. "I'll wait as long as it takes."
"That's not what you said once," Ianto pointed out.
"I was upset, it doesn't count." He turned his head and found Ianto coming to meet him halfway. They kissed softly, tasting of good whisky and tobacco smoke, lost in the press of lips and brush of tongues.
Ianto pulled away eventually and rubbed his nose against Jack's cheek. "I don't know what to do," he confessed. "We've been in Cardiff too long already, but I can't bear to leave."
"That's why we know we've been here too long." He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall beside the window. He could feel the cold of the glass on his skin, and knew that autumn was on its way. The leaves would soon turn colour and fall to blanket the streets, then the frost would come and turn the wet cobbles to ice under their feet. Another year would turn, taking their friends with it, and nothing would change for them. Mary's daughter had arrived at the height of summer, and the boys were growing fast. Soon she'd be running around with them. For now she was keeping the house awake at nights, and Jack had seized the excuse to move back in with Ianto, at least for a while.
"Let's go to Paris," Ianto blurted suddenly. "I still have friends there. We could spend a year there, maybe more, call it research and come back refreshed."
Jack watched Ianto's reflection in the window. "Are you sure you want to do that? We'd miss so much..."
"We're going to have to leave them eventually." Ianto sighed and held Jack tighter. "Better to buy ourselves a little time now, surely?"
He hesitated, but nodded his agreement. "We'll play it by ear, see if an opportunity arises over the next few days. If not, we'll start thinking about how to make one."
****They left Cardiff in the New Year, once Jack had fulfilled his Christmas contracts and Ianto had helped Jenny to do the costumes for the city’s pantomime. There always seemed to be something to stop them, some excuse they could find, but eventually Ianto booked them a journey that would take them all the way to Paris and presented Jack with the tickets, and it was settled.
The night before they left, Mary and Jenny cooked dinner in the big kitchen at the bakery, and they squeezed the whole family around the table in the parlour upstairs. Jack sat with baby Alice in his arms and Jacob next to him, with Ianto on his other side and Ifan beyond him. At the other end of the table, Tommy presided over a large roast chicken, whilst Mary and Jenny’s mother, who had given excellent if unneccesary instruction in the kitchen all day, looked somewhat overwhelmed, and a little put out that it appeared her daughter wouldn’t be marrying Ianto after all.
"Oh, we’ll miss you so," Jenny sniffled when they’d eaten. "Do you have to go?"
"We do now," Jack teased her gently. "Our tickets are booked and everything is arranged." He was surprised a moment later when she threw herself into his arms and started crying - fortunately he’d handed Alice back to Mary as soon as she had her hands free - and he patted her hair and crooned to her softly. "Hey now, what’s these tears? We’ll hardly be gone long enough for you to notice."
"I always thought you’d go home," she sobbed, "back to America, or to your adventures in India. I didn’t think we’d lose you both together."
Ianto reached over and brushed her hair back from her face. "I couldn’t let him go alone, could I? There’s no knowing the scrapes he’d get into."
She cried harder at that, but she was smiling at last. "Will you write to us? Even if you don’t stay in Paris and you decide to go to India, will you write?"
"You need to stop planting ideas in their heads, you do," Mary scolded her. Her voice was shaky, though, and she let Ianto wrap an arm around her shoulders and hug her close. "They’re not allowed to go to India," she sniffed, "without me!"
Ianto released her and went to the dresser, which he opened to extract a thick sheaf of papers. "These are our wills," he told them quietly. "If anything should happen to us - if the boat sinks or the hotel burns down or we get run down by rampaging horses..." He pulled a wry smile and added, "Not that it will, we hope. But if anything does happen, we’re leaving the business to you - to Mary and Jenny."
They stared at him, and their mother fluttered. "I don’t think that’s quite..."
"It’s legal." Jack spread his hands and smiled widely. "And I’m sure Mary will let Tommy help out around the place. Mary and Jenny, you’ve done so much for us and with us, and we want it to be you who takes the businesses on if we can’t. We trust your judgement."
Tommy nodded his agreement, and Jack relaxed slightly. "I do as Mary tells me anyway," he grumbled good-naturedly. "We all trust her."
Ianto raised his glass and smiled. "To Mary and Jenny, then. And to the hope it never comes to that."
"Just to note, though, we won’t be changing our wills unless we find some women to make honest men out of us," Jack added, raising his glass as well. "So no going and dying before us, alright? To Mary and Jenny."
"And to Jack and Ianto." They all looked to Tommy, who raised his glass to join them. "And to their Paris adventure."
****
A warm breeze blew in off the English Channel and brought withit the smell of sea salt and the cry of the gulls that wheeled above the fishing trawlers. The rock was warm against Ianto’s back and his toes dug into the sand below it. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was the clear blue of the sky, a bird or two, and the bright, warm light of the sun as it rolled towards its zenith.
Jack was humming to himself, snatches of tunes that hadn't been written yet and old folk songs they'd left on the docks in Cardiff. It was a fairly isolated spot between two tiny fishing villages, one of which was home to the pub where they were staying for a few nights, and the middle of the week so any children who might have rambled along the beach in search of shells and seaweed were in school. They had the area to themselves, apart from the birds and the insects that buzzed in the long grass on the dunes. It would have been hard for the scene to be more idyllic, really.
He sat up and stretched, regretting the preiod costume - his jacket was discarded on the rock behind him, but even though he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow he still found himself missing T shirts and shorts - and leaned forwards so that he could see what Jack was working on. He'd taken up painting again when they got to Paris and found himself with more time on his hands. If he went missing, which he always had from time to time, Ianto could usually find him by the river or one of the churches, sometimes across from the busy markets, painting and drawing. Their rooms were full of sketchbooks and canvases, both Jack's art and Ianto's fashion sketches. He also had stacks of pamphlets and magazines that he kept meaning to sort through, but there just didn't seem to be the urgency.
Jack had his sketchbook on his knee, and was using charcoal to turn the bright sunshine into a darker night scene. Or possibly just sketching with charcoal - Ianto wasn't really sure yet. He grunted when Ianto rubbed a hand down his back and tilted his head, but didn't stop drawing. "Woken up, have you?"
"I hope I wasn't asleep in this sun." He shifted a bit closer and slid his arm around Jack's waist, just for a moment. "I'm glad we came out here."
"Me too. We should buy a boat."
He blinked. "We should what?"
"We should buy a boat, go down to the Riviera, muck about in boats." Jack tilted his head back onto Ianto's shoulder. "Just for a little while. Then sail back to Cardiff."
"You're mad. Totally mad." He reached out and touched the boat that bobbed in the middle of Jack's picture. "But I like that about you."
They sat in silence for a while longer, leaning on the sand as Jack sketched, until Ianto finally said what they were both thinking. "We're not going back, are we? Not really." Jack said nothing, but stopped his work and covered Ianto's hand with his own, so Ianto went on, "We might visit them, but whenever I think of Cardiff now, I just think of it as a place I came from. Somewhere I had to get away from."
"We've got a long time to wait before we're accepted there, and I don't think I can wait that long." He sighed heavily. "I don't want to have to wait a century to tell the world I love you, but without a convenient time traveller..."
"Yeah." Ianto kissed the side of Jack's neck and returned to staring out to sea. "Better to keep moving, keep ahead of people noticing. It's not such a hardship, really. There's far too much to see out there to stay in one place."
Jack hummed again and resumed his sketching, adding a new shore on the horizon.
****
16/09/1876
Dearest Mary,
I hope you are all well, and that life in Cardiff is treating you well. The boys must be getting so big now, and even Jane must be nearly walking. When I think of them, it reminds me how much we're missing, how much we miss you all. It's certainly quieter without you all, and the quiet has got empty sometimes.
We went back to Paris for a while, but the rains came and the Riviera called. We bought a boat, hired a small crew, and we're due to sail with the tide this afternoon. The weather is beautiful, and the sea is so blue. I've included some of Jack's paintings, of the boat and the town and the coast - he's been busy the last week or so, whilst we've been waiting to sail.
I don't know how often we'll be able to write once we've sailed, or how long letters will take to reach you. The post service here is good, but Jack is hearing the call of the wild. I would dearly like to see the Pyramids and the city of Petra, and Jack has packed the hold with canvases and paints, which caused some raise eyebrows amongst our crew. I'm sure they'll get used to him, sooner or later. He's become quite popular around the town, actually, and has sold several of his paintings to restaurants and cafes. It's a little strange to go out for dinner in the south of France and sit under a painting of Cardiff Castle.
Adventure is in Jack's heart, and now he's started out I don't know if he could stop again. Cardiff was only supposed to be a stop for him, but we caught him and kept him. I miss home dreadfully, but I love him so and I'd follow him wherever he went. I can't imagine life without him now, so much so that it is easier to give up everything else in my life. He is my dearest friend, and I'm so glad I know him - even if he does lead me off into the wilds.
Morning is rolling on, now, and I can hear the harbour coming to life, so I must take this letter into the town and prepare to sail. I'm not sure how well I will take to life at sea, so do wish me luck.
Thinking of you always, and with all our love,
Jack and Ianto
Ianto signed the letter and left it out on the desk for Jack to sign, with the paintings they were going to send with it. Mary would never know how true his words were, but it still mattered that he told her. He bent to look out of the porthole at the light glittering on the water, and smiled to himself. It was another beautiful day, with a soft breeze and light waves that rocked the boat gently. Although he knew nothing about boats and even less about the sea, he thought it was going to be a good day to sail.
Their cabin, which took up the front end of the boat below the deck, was already cluttered with notes and papers and half-finished paintings across the two built in desks, and the bookcase was just as stuffed. Against the front wall they had set out the small table and chairs. It had two portholes on either side, each with a bed set under it, and a larger window at the front with the desks below.
Ianto shucked his shirt again and dropped it on the floor as he crossed to the bed on the starboard side, where Jack was sprawled with his back against the wall, half covered by the blankets. He lifted the blankets and slid in, pressing himself up against Jack and letting Jack claim a deep kiss.
They lay there, wrapped up in each other and lulled by the gentle swaying of the boat. Jack nuzzled at Ianto's neck, planting kisses down it gentle and across his collarbone. "We should get up," he muttered, thoroughly distracted. "God, I don't want to move."
"We have to find the crew before they find us." Ianto ran his hands up Jack's back and squeezed at his shoulders, hooking his leg over Jack's to pull himself closer despite his words. "Jack..."
Jack held him close for a moment and pulled back with a reluctant sigh. "You're right, as usual."
"As always."
They pulled themselves out of bed, and Ianto made it up whilst Jack dressed in loose linen trousers and a blue cotton shirt. By the time Ianto was finished, Jack was already heading up to the deck with the letters, leaving Ianto to find his trousers, his discarded shirt and his waistcoat. He'd made it himself in their rented rooms in the town, whilst Jack was out painting. It was a deep brown brocade with russet patterns shot through it, and copper-coloured lapels. The weather was far too warm for a jacket, so he pulled on his boots and let himself out into the mess, then bounded up the stairs to the deck.
They leaned on the rails together, watching the waves playing on the beach below the town, waiting for their crew to join them. A young turkish man called Muhlis was the first to join them, followed soon after by his compatriot and their captain, Genkal. They were joined by the two final crew members, Andros and Michel, and then all there was left to do was wait for the tide.
Whilst their crew settled in, Jack and Ianto went for a final walk around the town, to visit the post office and send their letters, buy breakfast and admire the view. Their boat bobbed in the harbour between a few fishing boats that weren't out on the sea, and the deep blue water was calling to them.
Jack chuckled and squeezed Ianto's hand. "You only offered me a room for the night. Regret it?”
"If I'd only know what I was letting myself in for, I would have approached you before you got drunk." Ianto smiled across at him. "I'd have to be mad to regret even a single second."
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Date: 2012-12-08 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-08 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 11:02 am (UTC)This was a rich and lovely story.