Schmoop_Bingo Second Card Oneshots
Oct. 23rd, 2009 08:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Sneakily posted here so that I can request my new card. Hopefully the backdating will work...
Spend the Year
Ianto woke slowly, awareness uncurling through him like syrup and leaving his limbs heavy and loose. He was sprawled across Jack, with one of Jack's hands tangled in his hair and scratching gently at his scalp and the other resting on his hip. “Morning,” he muttered, losing the end of the word in a yawn. He kissed Jack's chest, the bit he could reach without moving, and squirmed a bit to snuggle in closer – this was his favourite way to start the day, tangled with Jack in a dozy, intimate pile, legs tangled together and arms around each other. It didn't happen often, but the incidences were definitely increasing in frequency.
“Hey there,” Jack greeted him, sliding his hand from Ianto's hair to his shoulder and tugging gently to shift Ianto more on top of him. “You slept well.”
“I did,” Ianto agreed, although it hadn't been a question. He pressed his cheek against Jack's bare chest – he doesn't think he could have got used to using a hairy chest as a pillow, although Jack seems to enjoy it on occasion – and sighed. “Time is it?”
“Nine,” Jack had moved his hand to stroke the back of Ianto's neck. “You could go back to sleep for a bit.”
“That never works,” Ianto muttered. “Doesn't matter when I wake up; once I do, I'm awake.”
“I'm sorry.”
He snorted. “For something that wasn't your fault and isn't a problem anyway. That's so you.”
“I like to pretend at responsibility now and again,” Jack said airily whilst his fingertip traced lines and whorls on Ianto's shoulder blades.
“No, you like to claim responsibility for everything,” he chided. “Except when good stuff happens – that's just fortuitous.”
“Like God in reverse... Although he claims the good stuff too,” Jack chuckled.
Ianto laughed along, then realised where these conversations usually went. “You're not about to tell me that you slept with Jesus, are you?”
“Don't be silly,” Jack teased. “Mary Magdalen would have ripped my balls off.”
Ianto yawned and shakes his head. “They would have grown back. You didn't really...”
“No,” Jack squeezed his shoulder in unnecessary reassurance. “The entire time period is off limits, you can't even get in there.”
“Probably a good thing,” Ianto mused. “Although why bother, when you could just jump in later and mistranslate it?”
“You are far too awake for time time of the morning,” Jack informed him suspiciously.
He snorted. “By this time of the morning I've normally been at work for at least an hour. After having been awake this long, I'm normally out of the flat. I'm well trained.”
“You should be a student, sleeping in until noon...”
“I'm not that young,” he protested. “Honestly, I know you get off on sleeping with a younger man, but you don't need to exaggerate it.”
Jack waved the hand that was on Ianto's shoulder and then used it to push Ianto's head back down onto his chest. “I don't know when university finishes, do I? I did all my degrees through the Open University or in a different time period.”
“How many degrees do you have?”
“Four...” he paused and Ianto could feel that he was counting silently. “No, wait... six. I get bored sometimes.”
“And do degrees...”
“Yeah. I'm part way through an accounting one at the moment,” he tapped Ianto's shoulder absently. “I should really get on with it.”
“When did you start it?”
“Erm... ninety six?” he chuckled and rolled them over so that he could prop himself up above Ianto and nuzzle their noses together. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”
“Uh?” Ianto tugged him down for a proper kiss, tangling his fingers in Jack's thick hair and enjoying the feel of it free of gel. He hadn't realised that Jack had arranged them a day off for a reason. “Which anniversary?”
Jack chuckled and went back to nuzzling his cheek. “It's one year to the day since I spent the night at your flat for the first time. Well...” he paused with his lips pressed lightly against Ianto's temple. “Two years for me. Twat.”
Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and pressed their cheeks together, holding on to him. He knew that Jack's muttered insult was aimed at the monster who'd held him prisoner for the extra year, and partly at the Doctor. “Well then, happy anniversary.” He pulled back and kissed Jack softly, urging him to take control. Jack set a languid pace, kissing him thoroughly and single-mindedly. Sleeping together, as opposed to merely having sex, had had so many advantages. This morning was proving to be yet another.
The Wine's an Excellent Vintage, Too For Briony Jae
Ianto had the news on, but he wasn't watching it; it would have been quite hard to do so with his eyes closed, and he couldn't be bothered to open them. Still, it was reasonably relaxing background noise, as long as he didn't listen to it either. The rest of the flat was dark apart from one counter light in the kitchen that he'd put on to check a take-away menu and find the phone to place his and Jack's usual order. It was a normal Torchwood choice – something that was either edible cold or reheated well. Fish and chips was his and Jack's treat, because it symbolised a determination or awareness that they had enough time to finish their chips.
The doorbell rang and he pushed himself up to get it reluctantly, rubbing at his eyes with the realisation that there was still no sign of Jack. Before he'd even finished the thought, though, a key turned in the lock and Jack was pushing the door open, talking quietly. “Just let me put this down and I'll get you the cash, how much was it again?”
“Twelve quid,” Ianto called groggily. “I put it on the table...”
“Thanks, Ianto,” Jack replied, speaking louder now that he knew Ianto was awake. A moment later he closed the door and leaned over the back of the sofa, turning Ianto's head with one hand to steal a kiss. “I didn't wake you, did I?”
“Not quite,” he dropped his head back against the sofa to watch Jack collect the take-away and his bag. “You finished up with the witness?”
“Laura? Yeah, sorted.”
“Laura, is it?” Ianto asked, trying to ignore the jealousy. Jack had Retconned her anyway, what did it matter if he knew her name?
Jack chuckled and flopped on the sofa next to him, kissing the exposed curve of his neck. “Jealous, Ianto?”
“I'm exhausted. It makes me irritable about almost anything,” he huffed. “Don't gloat.”
“Sorry,” Jack kissed his cheek in apology, then poked him in the stomach. “Sit up, babe. You can sleep...”
“Babe?” he lifted his head to glare at his partner. “No. Go,” he pointed to the table by the window. “Fetch the plates and cutlery.”
Jack laughed and did as he was instructed, then set the plates on the coffee table and emptied the trays of curry onto them, then tore the naan in half and set a piece on the side of each plate and placed Ianto's on his lap with a fork. As a finishing touch, he fetched two wine glasses from the drinks cabinet and pulled a bottle of wine out of his bag. “Are you awake enough for a drink?” he checked.
Ianto was more awake now, so he nodded. “It'll put me straight back to sleep, but that might not be such a bad thing.”
“I suppose I'll have to cope with you being all dozy and warm and loose for me tonight, then,” Jack sighed heavily and handed Ianto a glass of wine.
“Pervert,” Ianto muttered, holding the plate steady with one hand and cradling the glass in his other. “You're not taking advantage of me whilst I'm drunk.”
“Whyever not?” Jack pouted at him and recorked the bottle with one of the novelty bottle toppers he'd stolen from the TI office. “You didn't complain last time.”
“This is true,” Ianto agreed thoughtfully, swirling his wine around the glass. “In fact... Nope, you can do it again if you like.”
“Oo, how exciting; I have consent,” he waggled his eyebrows and laughed at Ianto's long-suffering sigh. He tilted Ianto's chin towards him for one more kiss, then rested two fingers against his cheek and raised his glass in his other hand. “Here's to another week gone.”
“Torchwood,” Ianto touched their glasses together and smiled. “And us.”
“Us,” Jack agreed.
By the time they finished eating, they'd turned off the TV and Ianto was halfway through his second glass of wine. Jack collected the plates together and took them through to the kitchen to soak in the sink and dump the take-away boxes into the bin. Whilst he was gone, Ianto turned the TV on again and switched it straight from the drama that first came on to Radio 2. Jack laughed in the kitchen and Ianto heard the lid of the bin flap. When Jack returned, retrieving his glass of wine before he sat down, he wrapped one arm around Ianto's shoulders, and Ianto shifted to lean into him and sighed happily. They were hopelessly domestic when they got the chance – not that that happened often – and not that he minded. It had taken time to get used to snuggling being a reciprocal thing, to having a partner he could fall asleep on without worrying that he was going to crush them, or breasts getting in the way. Getting used to the sex had actually been easier.
“You're thinking too hard,” Jack chided him. “Come up here.”
He lifted his head and watched Jack take a sip of his wine, then let Jack guide him into a soft kiss. Jack's tongue brushed against his lower lip, cold from the wine, and he opened his mouth obediently, surprised when wine trickled into his mouth. A drop spilled past their joined lips, and Jack chased it with his tongue whilst Ianto chuckled. “I could have told you that would happen.”
Jack hummed against Ianto's chin and trailed his kisses down to his neck. “I think I should let you get to bed,” he muttered, without giving up his assault.
Ianto took another mouthful of his wine, finishing the glass off, and let his glass rest against his thigh whilst Jack sucked on his Adam's apple. The wine combined with the tiredness had taken up residence, and he was beyond content to lie there and let Jack do whatever he wanted.
When Jack stopped, with half of Ianto's shirt buttons unfastened, it took him a moment to notice, and he blinked at Jack sullenly once he did. “You stopped.”
“I did,” Jack smiled up at him and kissed his chest once more, then pushed himself back and rested his hands on Ianto's knees. “I think you're drunk.”
“I might be,” he studied his empty glass and frowned. “Or just very tired.”
“Bedtime?” Jack asked, offering his hands, palm up, for Ianto to take.
He nodded, set the glass down and gave Jack his hands, letting Jack pull him up and wrap an arm around his waist, leaning into him for comfort rather than support. “Coming to bed?”
“Yep,” Jack pushed him into the bathroom gently. “I'll be with you in a minute.”
Ianto smiled and leaned on the sink to brush his teeth, even pleased by the fact that it took him three tries to pick out his toothbrush instead of Jack's.
Coffee and Coincidence For Anduria Trianys
Alice settled down in one of the comfortable armchairs that looked out over the Bay and took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of her coffee. She was taking a risk by coming down here, but it wasn't like her dad had time to go to coffee shops or even to glance in on his way past. Besides, from the way he spoke about his new partner's coffee making skills, he wouldn't have any need to visit them anyway.
She was pleased he was happy, although it had come as a shock to hear him using masculine pronouns when talking about the new boy. He hadn't made a big deal about it, but she could tell that he was worried about how she was going to take it – he was always worried that the next thing out of his mouth would be what broke their relationship irrevocably and, in a way, so was she. She didn't want to lose him, but there were some things she couldn't cope with; finding out that he was gay was not one of them, but finding out that his boyfriend was younger than she was nearly had been.
Someone cleared their throat next to her and she looked up, startled. A well-dressed young man was studying her, hiding nervousness under a polite mask. “Can I help you?” she asked, checking the table for magazines or newspapers that he might be after.
“This is... I'm sorry, are you Alice Carter?” he stuttered.
Oh God, she thought to herself, eyeing his dress again and noting the way the line of his jacket didn't sit quite right over his hip. “Yes, I am.”
He relaxed and smiled. One of his teeth was missing, and she wondered if it was from his work, or from some time before. It was unlikely to be from outside work. “I thought so,” he sat down without being invited and set his mug down carefully. “You look just like your photo.”
“Dad has a photo of me?” she asked, so startled that she forgot she was pretending not to know what was going on. “Sorry, I...”
The man's smile quirked in acknowledgement, and he nodded. “Your graduation photo.”
“Now you're just flattering me,” she chided. “I graduated fifteen years ago.”
“I refuse to believe that,” he insisted. When she laughed he offered his hand. “Ianto Jones, Ms. Carter.”
She took his hand and was glad that he didn't kiss it as her father would. “Alice. And you're Dad's...”
“Pregnant pause, followed by a shrug,” Ianto agreed dryly. “We're working on the label.”
“It's not like him to do labels,” she commented.
“Well, if he will date an archivist,” Ianto gave a 'what can you do?' shrug and picked up his mug. “I'm very pleased to meet you, though. I was a bit startled to discover that I'm sort of a step-grandfather,” he frowned, showing his confusion either at the situation, his relationship, or both, and shrugged agan. “But that's what happens when you date outside your age range, I suppose.”
“He is a bit out of your age range,” she agreed. “Isn't that awkward?”
“Not really,” he smiled thoughtfully. “The usual problems of imminent mortality are a little skewed in our relationship especially with our job, and it's not like he's all that mature to go with his age.”
She laughed. “And never was truer word spoken. How old are you?”
“Twenty five,” he supplied. “And I've been with the company for five years, although I've only been at this branch for two years.”
She nodded, understanding what he was telling her. He'd transferred to Cardiff either shortly before the Battle of Canary wharf – in which case he was lucky – or just after it – in which case he was even luckier. He seemed polite, earnest and approachable, with an understated sense of humour and a sharp mind; he'd probably had her assessed as a threat or victim before he'd ordered his coffee or even looked at her properly. How on Earth he coped with her flighty, unpredictable and traumatised father, she had no idea, but he must have the patience of a saint. It occurred to her that she wouldn't mind getting to know him better and borrowing his trick, so that she could use it on her students. “How long have you been with Jack?” she asked, lifting her coffee mug as a shield.
He chuckled into his own coffee and looked up to the ceiling in thought. “On and off since I got here. On properly since... I have no idea. We've definitely been together since he got back from his business trip, but we might have been before that as well.”
“Accidental exclusivity?” she guessed.
“Oh no,” he smirked at her. “Deliberate exclusivity. It just wasn't supposed to have emotions attached.”
Alice laughed and put her mug down again. “They do get in the way a bit, don't they?”
“They do indeed,” he shook his head and checked his pocket-watch. “Still got time.”
“When does His Lordship want you back?”
“Oh, he's at a conference in London,” Ianto slid the watch back into his waistcoat pocket, and she caught a glimpse of his gun. “No one's really in charge, so I decided I was taking a proper lunch break for once.”
“He doesn't put you in charge whilst he's gone, then?”
Ianto gave her a slow, amused look. “That would be far too organised. Besides, it rules out the opportunity for persuading me to join him at the last minute.”
“Ah, the impetuosity of love,” she laughed, and then wondered if she'd said too much.
Rather than being offended or worried by it, though, Ianto just rolled his eyes and saluted her with his mug. “Or of sugar rushes.” He cradled his mug between his hands and gazed into it, a small frown creasing his forehead. “Alice, may I be frank?”
She nodded. “I have a feeling you're going to be.”
He smiled in acknowledgement but didn't look up. “Jack cares about you a great deal, and he misses you. I know how... it can be terrifying, loving him, I know that. But hiding it and denying it denies you of something unique and precious,” he looked up at last. “You have one surviving parent – isn't that worth something?”
Alice turned her face away and watched the waves in the Bay instead. “Thirty years ago, maybe. I think we've come too far apart, though.”
“Too far is when you decide that the distance isn't worth travelling,” Ianto told her and although his voice was perfectly level and calm, it still held a note of censure. “If there's anything this job has taught me, it's that people almost always give up before the fight is won.”
She swallowed and nodded, turning back to look at him. “I'll think about it.”
“Thank you.” He checked his watch again and drained his coffee. “And on that note, I'd better go and feed the starving masses. Well, my colleagues... It was lovely meeting you, Alice.”
“Likewise, Ianto,” she stayed seated when he stood up. “Maybe you should bring him over for Sunday dinner some time.”
Ianto smiled at her. “I think he'd rather the suggestion came from you,” he pointed out. “I'll see you again soon, I'm sure.”
“I'm sure you will,” she murmured at his retreating back. Oh, if only she were ten years younger and he weren't dating her father. Ianto Jones was a mystery she wouldn't have minded cracking herself.
An Explosion Would Ruin The Decor For Idamus
Jack was crouching down next to one of the many rickety tables when Ianto found him. One eye was open, studying the ornaments scattered on the tabletop, and he waved at Ianto vaguely. “I think I've found it,” he informed him, pointing to a brooch with a large green stone set into it.
“Very pretty,” Ianto commented dead-pan. “What is it?”
“It's a brooch.”
“Oh...” he crouched down next to Jack and joined him looking at it from this level. “What is it really?”
“A lot of things. Mainly a brooch,” he flicked a glance at Ianto, who rolled his eyes. “But it has some nifty little add-ons like an emergency teleport, a sonic modulator of some sort, and I think it has a self-destruct as well.”
“You think?” Ianto hissed in alarm. “Can't you be any more sure?”
“Not without picking it up,” he waved two fingers at it. “And if I pick it up...”
“It might blow your fingers off,” Ianto realised.
“And then some,” he agreed. Ianto continued studying the (possibly) deadly brooch, and Jack stood up, looking around. “Have you got a containment box on you?”
“Of course,” he didn't take his eyes off it, but waved at his satchel. “It's in there.”
“How very organised,” Jack commented approvingly. He ran his fingers through Ianto's hair distractedly, as if he needed something to do with his hand. “Can you provide a distraction?”
Ianto stood up, carefully so as not to knock the table, and looped one arm around Jack's waist so that he could kiss his cheek and whisper, “Are you going to steal it?”
Jack chuckled and turned Ianto towards him, pressing their chests and cheeks together. “Do you want to explain why I refuse to handle it, or to let anyone else handle it?”
“Fair point,” Ianto squeezed Jack and stepped back, kissing his cheek. “You look at shiny things, I'll go and find us a desk.”
“Make sure it's...”
“Sturdy, I know,” he waved at Jack and headed for the shop clerk who was watching them curiously. “Hi, hello,” he smiled cheerily, “I wonder if you could help me. My partner and I are looking for a new desk... well, I say we. He appears to have got distracted by shiny things. We're looking for a period piece...”
The clerk beamed at him and gestured down the aisle. “Certainly, sir. It depends what period you're looking for, of course, but we have a few pieces you could look at.”
“Thank you.”
Fifteen minutes later, whilst Ianto tried to describe the styling of the snug in his and Jack's new house, a large hand settled onto his waist and Jack interrupted with, “That one looks solid.”
Ianto rolled his eyes and smiled tightly at the clerk. “I'm so sorry. He's not quite house-trained yet. Jack, behave.”
The clerk laughed nervously, and Jack pouted. “Sorry, but it does. I can't help it if you always assume I'm talking about sex.”
“I'm usually right,” Ianto pointed out.
“Be that as it may,” Jack wrapped one arm tighter around Ianto's waist and held his hand out to the poor girl. “Jack Harkness.”
“Abbie, Mr Harkness,” she shook it nervously, looking like she expected an electric shock or a snog. “Your partner was trying to decide what period your snug is...”
“Oh, nineteen eighties mock-Victorian,” he supplied with a grimace of distaste. “I want to rip the whole lot out and start again.”
“Now he tells me,” Ianto sighed. “So there's no point getting the desk?”
“Oh, there's absolutely point in getting the desk,” Jack disagreed. “We can choose the furniture and decorate to match. It's much easier getting paint and wallpaper to match furniture than the other way around; isn't that right, Abbie?”
“It definitely is,” she agreed, warming to the topic now Jack wasn't flirting simply by existing. “Would you be looking for a set of furniture, then?”
Ianto surrendered himself to being steered around the huge warehouse to look at desks, chairs and sofas, conscious of the weight that Jack had slipped into his pocket when he wound his arm around Ianto's waist in that singularly possessive display for Abbie. He let Jack steer him around and offered his opinion on the various combinations and styles of furniture, surprised when he eventually found himself agreeing to a set that included a desk with matching chair and a deep sofa and armchair upholstered in a dark caramel fabric.
When they emerged from the shop, Ianto transferred the containment box into his shopping bag and took Jack's hand. “We're a couple...” he trailed off and refused to meet Jack's eyes.
Jack laughed and tugged on his hand, then looped his arms around Ianto's waist loosely, nuzzling his nose against Ianto's jaw. “We've bought a house together, and you've only just realised? I must be slipping.”
“No. No, it's just...” he shut up when Jack kissed him and sighed into it, holding Jack in place with his free hand. Middle of the street, during the lunch hour peak time, with a stolen alien brooch in his shopping bag... not the best time, but who cared, really?
Pass the Test
Ianto looked up at Jack's office again and bit his lip, then back to the Rift predictor. Tosh wheeled over to him and peered over her glasses at the screen. “What do you need to know, Ianto?”
He sighed and looked over his shoulder at her. “What are the chances of something coming through today?”
“At ninety-five percent certainty, the probability of something coming through the Rift today is 3%,” she reeled off with a smile. “Go on, get him out of here.”
“Thank you, Tosh,” he flicked the screen off and got up to hug her shoulders. “We'll come back and do the night again.”
“I know,” she smiled up at him and shook her head. “You always do. Enjoy the test.”
He chuckled and slipped his wallet and phone into his trouser pockets, then went around the desks to knock on Jack's door. “Hey, you busy?”
Jack sighed and shook his head, but didn't look up from the file he was reading. “Always... but never too busy for you,” he glanced to the side and smiled at Ianto. “You bored?”
“To tears,” Ianto confirmed, closing the door behind him quietly and coming to stand behind Jack, resting his hands on his shoulders. “Let me take you away from all of this.”
Jack chuckled and lowered the papers slightly. “Run away together into the sunset?”
“We could,” Ianto agreed. “But Mam would hunt us down and kill us. I had something a little less permanent in mind.”
“Shame,” Jack looked up at him at last, flashing a grin. “I was enjoying images of you stretched out on a beach on my Caribbean island.”
“Was I lobster red?” Ianto bent down and kissed Jack's temple. “Because otherwise it was just a fantasy.”
“Hey, fantasies have their advantages,” Jack protested, reaching up to hold Ianto in place so that he could kiss him properly. When he broke away, it was with a wry smile. “You don't get sand in uncomfortable places in fantasies.”
“I suspect that some people do,” Ianto chuckled and slides his hands down to start unbuttoning Jack's shirt. “Help me out here, we've got half an hour to get there.”
“Where are we going?” Jack does as he's told and starts working on his buttons from the bottom up to meet Ianto in the middle.
“That's my surprise,” Ianto laughed and tugged Jack's braces down. “Grab the suntan lotion.”
An hour later they found their seats and settled down in them, juggling pints of beer in plastic cups and tubs of ice cream. Ianto had managed to get very good seats in a reserved seating area through the judicious application of several owed favours, an ingratiating manner and the fact that the officials were just relieved that he hadn't turned up to shut them down for the day. He chuckled at Jack's still bemused expression and put his beer down next to his chair carefully. “You're not the only one who can extract a favour,” he pointed out. “And some of us can do it without having to Retcon people.”
Jack laughed and put his ice cream down on his knee, then his beer onto the floor next to his chair. “I should have brought my tankard. They're more stable...”
“You have a tankard?” Ianto stared at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?”
“How come I'm only your boyfriend when I've done something wrong?” Jack dug into his ice cream and pouted theatrically. “Do you only like me when I'm naughty?”
Ianto leaned in very carefully and smeared ice cream across Jack's cheek, making him shriek. “You are so gay.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Jack smirked at him and got his answer when Ianto dragged him in for a kiss. “Love you too,” he added softly when they broke apart.
“I know,” Ianto rubbed their noses together and smiled. “Or am I supposed to say 'I love you'? Have you got your precognition turned on again?”
Jack laughed and rested their foreheads together. “There's a TV camera pointing right at us.”
“Let it,” Ianto kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “it'll give people something to watch until play starts.”
“I think that's about now,” Jack lifted his head to watch the cameras swinging around to focus on the pavillion steps. “Who won the coin toss?”
“England,” Ianto got on with eating his rapidly melting ice cream and watching the team gathering on the pitch. “They opted to bat first.”
“Thanks for that, Sherlock, I would never have guessed,” Jack drawled.
“Pompous ass,” Ianto muttered into his ice cream.
Jack finished his ice cream and draped his arm over Ianto's shoulders, curling his fingers around a well-developed biceps and squeezing gently. “Thank you.”
Leaning into him, Ianto smiled into his ice cream. “You're welcome. We would both have been miserable if we'd only had Test Match Special to keep up with it. Besides, the day looked quiet, and there was no point staying down there whilst we could be up here.”
“You don't need to explain it to me, Ianto,” Jack laughed. “I'd be happy to be on a stake-out in the rain if I got to spend it with you.”
It was said with such sincerity that Ianto couldn't find a response. He turned his head to rest his cheek against Jack's shoulder and smiled. “Only because I'd be soaked and with clinging and see-through clothes,” he said at last. “And probably huddling against you and complaining.”
“Well...” Jack laughed and kissed his temple. “I'd also get to take you home afterwards, give you a long, hot bubble bath, and then tuck you into bed, all flushed from the heat...”
“Jack,” Ianto sighed and turned his attention back to the game. “No fantasies in public. It's just not cricket.”
Rhiannon Investigates
Ianto set Rhiannon's mug down carefully and waved her back into her seat. “I've got it, it's fine,” he assured her. “Milk and one sugar, right?”
“Like you need to ask,” she scoffed, still watching his broken wrist as if she expected his hand to drop off, or something equally dire. “Are you going to tell me what you were doing to injure yourself this time?”
He sighed and collected his own coffee, returning to the sofa to sit down with it and tuck his leg under himself to face her. “I fell downstairs.”
“Ianto...”
“I did!” he protested. Okay, so he'd been pushed by an alien trying to get him away from her babies, but she hadn't meant any harm, and she'd been very apologetic once they got the translation feed working and Gwen had managed to calm her down, and Jack's face when he came thundering down the stairs had been worth it. He took another sip of his coffee and smiled. “It's not even that bad, I've just been told to take a day off work to rest it.”
“Every time I see you, you've got some new injury,” she said darkly.
He looked away guiltily. It was true, he only got to see her on his injury days, because his rare official days off were spent with Jack. They did sometimes go to see Rhiannon or his mam, but mostly they grabbed the day and spent it doing the things they never got to do normally. “I appear to have developed a clumsy streak,” he said at last.
“That's what Karen said...”
It took Ianto a moment to remember which of Rhiannon's many friends Karen was, so he had a mouth full of coffee when he twigged. Rhiannon got up to pat his back ineffectually whilst he choked. “Rhi... no,” he said firmly, rubbing his chest. “No, it's not Jack.”
“Are you sure?” she looked sceptical but relieved. “I don't want to think that... Look, Ianto,” she cut across his attempts to insist further, “I like Jack, you know I do. And I know he's... I'm not stupid, I can tell he's depressed or stressed or something. But that's no excuse, if he's taking it out on you. And I don't doubt that you can take care of yourself and get it sorted out, so I'm not saying you should leave him, either. But I don't want you to think that no one's noticed. I don't want you to think that I don't worry.”
Ianto leaned back into the sofa and sighed. “Is Mam worrying too?”
“Of course she is,” she assured him.
Rhiannon had taken his mug whilst he was choking, so he ran his hand through his hair. “It's not him, Rhiannon. I can't explain why it's happening so often, but Jack would never hurt me.”
She sighed and nodded, settling back down more comfortably. “So it's true. You're Torchwood.” He gaped at her and she smiled slightly. “After that explosion down Butetown way last week, you were just on the edge of the shot on the news. David spotted you and asked if you're bomb squad. Well, what was I supposed to say? I told him that if you were, you weren't very good at it, were you? But it set me to thinking, because you're always getting hurt, and you're always busy when something like that happens, and there's Jack in that bloody great coat... not exactly subtle, is he?”
Ianto chuckled and shook his head. “Subtlety's not part of his repertoire.”
“You'll note that I'm not asking how extensive his repertoire is,” Rhiannon said primly, smirking into her tea. “I hardly believe it, my baby brother's Torchwood.”
He shook his head and reached out for his coffee again. “Promise me you'll keep this one quieter than you did me and Jack? Because we're not supposed to exist. Mind you, neither is Jack.”
“What do you mean?”
“He's...” part alien, born in the future, immortal, been living here longer than anyone should be able to understand, “sort of classified. His identity's... it's weird.”
Her eyes and mouth went round. “You mean like James Bond?”
“Except for the bit where everyone's heard of James Bond, yeah,” he chuckled.
“Well,” she opened and closed her mouth a few times and took a sip of her tea to stop the goldfish impression. “That'll make getting a civil partnership more difficult.”
Ianto choked on coffee for the second time in the conversation. Warning: Discussion of domestic violence
Spend the Year
Ianto woke slowly, awareness uncurling through him like syrup and leaving his limbs heavy and loose. He was sprawled across Jack, with one of Jack's hands tangled in his hair and scratching gently at his scalp and the other resting on his hip. “Morning,” he muttered, losing the end of the word in a yawn. He kissed Jack's chest, the bit he could reach without moving, and squirmed a bit to snuggle in closer – this was his favourite way to start the day, tangled with Jack in a dozy, intimate pile, legs tangled together and arms around each other. It didn't happen often, but the incidences were definitely increasing in frequency.
“Hey there,” Jack greeted him, sliding his hand from Ianto's hair to his shoulder and tugging gently to shift Ianto more on top of him. “You slept well.”
“I did,” Ianto agreed, although it hadn't been a question. He pressed his cheek against Jack's bare chest – he doesn't think he could have got used to using a hairy chest as a pillow, although Jack seems to enjoy it on occasion – and sighed. “Time is it?”
“Nine,” Jack had moved his hand to stroke the back of Ianto's neck. “You could go back to sleep for a bit.”
“That never works,” Ianto muttered. “Doesn't matter when I wake up; once I do, I'm awake.”
“I'm sorry.”
He snorted. “For something that wasn't your fault and isn't a problem anyway. That's so you.”
“I like to pretend at responsibility now and again,” Jack said airily whilst his fingertip traced lines and whorls on Ianto's shoulder blades.
“No, you like to claim responsibility for everything,” he chided. “Except when good stuff happens – that's just fortuitous.”
“Like God in reverse... Although he claims the good stuff too,” Jack chuckled.
Ianto laughed along, then realised where these conversations usually went. “You're not about to tell me that you slept with Jesus, are you?”
“Don't be silly,” Jack teased. “Mary Magdalen would have ripped my balls off.”
Ianto yawned and shakes his head. “They would have grown back. You didn't really...”
“No,” Jack squeezed his shoulder in unnecessary reassurance. “The entire time period is off limits, you can't even get in there.”
“Probably a good thing,” Ianto mused. “Although why bother, when you could just jump in later and mistranslate it?”
“You are far too awake for time time of the morning,” Jack informed him suspiciously.
He snorted. “By this time of the morning I've normally been at work for at least an hour. After having been awake this long, I'm normally out of the flat. I'm well trained.”
“You should be a student, sleeping in until noon...”
“I'm not that young,” he protested. “Honestly, I know you get off on sleeping with a younger man, but you don't need to exaggerate it.”
Jack waved the hand that was on Ianto's shoulder and then used it to push Ianto's head back down onto his chest. “I don't know when university finishes, do I? I did all my degrees through the Open University or in a different time period.”
“How many degrees do you have?”
“Four...” he paused and Ianto could feel that he was counting silently. “No, wait... six. I get bored sometimes.”
“And do degrees...”
“Yeah. I'm part way through an accounting one at the moment,” he tapped Ianto's shoulder absently. “I should really get on with it.”
“When did you start it?”
“Erm... ninety six?” he chuckled and rolled them over so that he could prop himself up above Ianto and nuzzle their noses together. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”
“Uh?” Ianto tugged him down for a proper kiss, tangling his fingers in Jack's thick hair and enjoying the feel of it free of gel. He hadn't realised that Jack had arranged them a day off for a reason. “Which anniversary?”
Jack chuckled and went back to nuzzling his cheek. “It's one year to the day since I spent the night at your flat for the first time. Well...” he paused with his lips pressed lightly against Ianto's temple. “Two years for me. Twat.”
Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and pressed their cheeks together, holding on to him. He knew that Jack's muttered insult was aimed at the monster who'd held him prisoner for the extra year, and partly at the Doctor. “Well then, happy anniversary.” He pulled back and kissed Jack softly, urging him to take control. Jack set a languid pace, kissing him thoroughly and single-mindedly. Sleeping together, as opposed to merely having sex, had had so many advantages. This morning was proving to be yet another.
The Wine's an Excellent Vintage, Too For Briony Jae
Ianto had the news on, but he wasn't watching it; it would have been quite hard to do so with his eyes closed, and he couldn't be bothered to open them. Still, it was reasonably relaxing background noise, as long as he didn't listen to it either. The rest of the flat was dark apart from one counter light in the kitchen that he'd put on to check a take-away menu and find the phone to place his and Jack's usual order. It was a normal Torchwood choice – something that was either edible cold or reheated well. Fish and chips was his and Jack's treat, because it symbolised a determination or awareness that they had enough time to finish their chips.
The doorbell rang and he pushed himself up to get it reluctantly, rubbing at his eyes with the realisation that there was still no sign of Jack. Before he'd even finished the thought, though, a key turned in the lock and Jack was pushing the door open, talking quietly. “Just let me put this down and I'll get you the cash, how much was it again?”
“Twelve quid,” Ianto called groggily. “I put it on the table...”
“Thanks, Ianto,” Jack replied, speaking louder now that he knew Ianto was awake. A moment later he closed the door and leaned over the back of the sofa, turning Ianto's head with one hand to steal a kiss. “I didn't wake you, did I?”
“Not quite,” he dropped his head back against the sofa to watch Jack collect the take-away and his bag. “You finished up with the witness?”
“Laura? Yeah, sorted.”
“Laura, is it?” Ianto asked, trying to ignore the jealousy. Jack had Retconned her anyway, what did it matter if he knew her name?
Jack chuckled and flopped on the sofa next to him, kissing the exposed curve of his neck. “Jealous, Ianto?”
“I'm exhausted. It makes me irritable about almost anything,” he huffed. “Don't gloat.”
“Sorry,” Jack kissed his cheek in apology, then poked him in the stomach. “Sit up, babe. You can sleep...”
“Babe?” he lifted his head to glare at his partner. “No. Go,” he pointed to the table by the window. “Fetch the plates and cutlery.”
Jack laughed and did as he was instructed, then set the plates on the coffee table and emptied the trays of curry onto them, then tore the naan in half and set a piece on the side of each plate and placed Ianto's on his lap with a fork. As a finishing touch, he fetched two wine glasses from the drinks cabinet and pulled a bottle of wine out of his bag. “Are you awake enough for a drink?” he checked.
Ianto was more awake now, so he nodded. “It'll put me straight back to sleep, but that might not be such a bad thing.”
“I suppose I'll have to cope with you being all dozy and warm and loose for me tonight, then,” Jack sighed heavily and handed Ianto a glass of wine.
“Pervert,” Ianto muttered, holding the plate steady with one hand and cradling the glass in his other. “You're not taking advantage of me whilst I'm drunk.”
“Whyever not?” Jack pouted at him and recorked the bottle with one of the novelty bottle toppers he'd stolen from the TI office. “You didn't complain last time.”
“This is true,” Ianto agreed thoughtfully, swirling his wine around the glass. “In fact... Nope, you can do it again if you like.”
“Oo, how exciting; I have consent,” he waggled his eyebrows and laughed at Ianto's long-suffering sigh. He tilted Ianto's chin towards him for one more kiss, then rested two fingers against his cheek and raised his glass in his other hand. “Here's to another week gone.”
“Torchwood,” Ianto touched their glasses together and smiled. “And us.”
“Us,” Jack agreed.
By the time they finished eating, they'd turned off the TV and Ianto was halfway through his second glass of wine. Jack collected the plates together and took them through to the kitchen to soak in the sink and dump the take-away boxes into the bin. Whilst he was gone, Ianto turned the TV on again and switched it straight from the drama that first came on to Radio 2. Jack laughed in the kitchen and Ianto heard the lid of the bin flap. When Jack returned, retrieving his glass of wine before he sat down, he wrapped one arm around Ianto's shoulders, and Ianto shifted to lean into him and sighed happily. They were hopelessly domestic when they got the chance – not that that happened often – and not that he minded. It had taken time to get used to snuggling being a reciprocal thing, to having a partner he could fall asleep on without worrying that he was going to crush them, or breasts getting in the way. Getting used to the sex had actually been easier.
“You're thinking too hard,” Jack chided him. “Come up here.”
He lifted his head and watched Jack take a sip of his wine, then let Jack guide him into a soft kiss. Jack's tongue brushed against his lower lip, cold from the wine, and he opened his mouth obediently, surprised when wine trickled into his mouth. A drop spilled past their joined lips, and Jack chased it with his tongue whilst Ianto chuckled. “I could have told you that would happen.”
Jack hummed against Ianto's chin and trailed his kisses down to his neck. “I think I should let you get to bed,” he muttered, without giving up his assault.
Ianto took another mouthful of his wine, finishing the glass off, and let his glass rest against his thigh whilst Jack sucked on his Adam's apple. The wine combined with the tiredness had taken up residence, and he was beyond content to lie there and let Jack do whatever he wanted.
When Jack stopped, with half of Ianto's shirt buttons unfastened, it took him a moment to notice, and he blinked at Jack sullenly once he did. “You stopped.”
“I did,” Jack smiled up at him and kissed his chest once more, then pushed himself back and rested his hands on Ianto's knees. “I think you're drunk.”
“I might be,” he studied his empty glass and frowned. “Or just very tired.”
“Bedtime?” Jack asked, offering his hands, palm up, for Ianto to take.
He nodded, set the glass down and gave Jack his hands, letting Jack pull him up and wrap an arm around his waist, leaning into him for comfort rather than support. “Coming to bed?”
“Yep,” Jack pushed him into the bathroom gently. “I'll be with you in a minute.”
Ianto smiled and leaned on the sink to brush his teeth, even pleased by the fact that it took him three tries to pick out his toothbrush instead of Jack's.
Coffee and Coincidence For Anduria Trianys
Alice settled down in one of the comfortable armchairs that looked out over the Bay and took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of her coffee. She was taking a risk by coming down here, but it wasn't like her dad had time to go to coffee shops or even to glance in on his way past. Besides, from the way he spoke about his new partner's coffee making skills, he wouldn't have any need to visit them anyway.
She was pleased he was happy, although it had come as a shock to hear him using masculine pronouns when talking about the new boy. He hadn't made a big deal about it, but she could tell that he was worried about how she was going to take it – he was always worried that the next thing out of his mouth would be what broke their relationship irrevocably and, in a way, so was she. She didn't want to lose him, but there were some things she couldn't cope with; finding out that he was gay was not one of them, but finding out that his boyfriend was younger than she was nearly had been.
Someone cleared their throat next to her and she looked up, startled. A well-dressed young man was studying her, hiding nervousness under a polite mask. “Can I help you?” she asked, checking the table for magazines or newspapers that he might be after.
“This is... I'm sorry, are you Alice Carter?” he stuttered.
Oh God, she thought to herself, eyeing his dress again and noting the way the line of his jacket didn't sit quite right over his hip. “Yes, I am.”
He relaxed and smiled. One of his teeth was missing, and she wondered if it was from his work, or from some time before. It was unlikely to be from outside work. “I thought so,” he sat down without being invited and set his mug down carefully. “You look just like your photo.”
“Dad has a photo of me?” she asked, so startled that she forgot she was pretending not to know what was going on. “Sorry, I...”
The man's smile quirked in acknowledgement, and he nodded. “Your graduation photo.”
“Now you're just flattering me,” she chided. “I graduated fifteen years ago.”
“I refuse to believe that,” he insisted. When she laughed he offered his hand. “Ianto Jones, Ms. Carter.”
She took his hand and was glad that he didn't kiss it as her father would. “Alice. And you're Dad's...”
“Pregnant pause, followed by a shrug,” Ianto agreed dryly. “We're working on the label.”
“It's not like him to do labels,” she commented.
“Well, if he will date an archivist,” Ianto gave a 'what can you do?' shrug and picked up his mug. “I'm very pleased to meet you, though. I was a bit startled to discover that I'm sort of a step-grandfather,” he frowned, showing his confusion either at the situation, his relationship, or both, and shrugged agan. “But that's what happens when you date outside your age range, I suppose.”
“He is a bit out of your age range,” she agreed. “Isn't that awkward?”
“Not really,” he smiled thoughtfully. “The usual problems of imminent mortality are a little skewed in our relationship especially with our job, and it's not like he's all that mature to go with his age.”
She laughed. “And never was truer word spoken. How old are you?”
“Twenty five,” he supplied. “And I've been with the company for five years, although I've only been at this branch for two years.”
She nodded, understanding what he was telling her. He'd transferred to Cardiff either shortly before the Battle of Canary wharf – in which case he was lucky – or just after it – in which case he was even luckier. He seemed polite, earnest and approachable, with an understated sense of humour and a sharp mind; he'd probably had her assessed as a threat or victim before he'd ordered his coffee or even looked at her properly. How on Earth he coped with her flighty, unpredictable and traumatised father, she had no idea, but he must have the patience of a saint. It occurred to her that she wouldn't mind getting to know him better and borrowing his trick, so that she could use it on her students. “How long have you been with Jack?” she asked, lifting her coffee mug as a shield.
He chuckled into his own coffee and looked up to the ceiling in thought. “On and off since I got here. On properly since... I have no idea. We've definitely been together since he got back from his business trip, but we might have been before that as well.”
“Accidental exclusivity?” she guessed.
“Oh no,” he smirked at her. “Deliberate exclusivity. It just wasn't supposed to have emotions attached.”
Alice laughed and put her mug down again. “They do get in the way a bit, don't they?”
“They do indeed,” he shook his head and checked his pocket-watch. “Still got time.”
“When does His Lordship want you back?”
“Oh, he's at a conference in London,” Ianto slid the watch back into his waistcoat pocket, and she caught a glimpse of his gun. “No one's really in charge, so I decided I was taking a proper lunch break for once.”
“He doesn't put you in charge whilst he's gone, then?”
Ianto gave her a slow, amused look. “That would be far too organised. Besides, it rules out the opportunity for persuading me to join him at the last minute.”
“Ah, the impetuosity of love,” she laughed, and then wondered if she'd said too much.
Rather than being offended or worried by it, though, Ianto just rolled his eyes and saluted her with his mug. “Or of sugar rushes.” He cradled his mug between his hands and gazed into it, a small frown creasing his forehead. “Alice, may I be frank?”
She nodded. “I have a feeling you're going to be.”
He smiled in acknowledgement but didn't look up. “Jack cares about you a great deal, and he misses you. I know how... it can be terrifying, loving him, I know that. But hiding it and denying it denies you of something unique and precious,” he looked up at last. “You have one surviving parent – isn't that worth something?”
Alice turned her face away and watched the waves in the Bay instead. “Thirty years ago, maybe. I think we've come too far apart, though.”
“Too far is when you decide that the distance isn't worth travelling,” Ianto told her and although his voice was perfectly level and calm, it still held a note of censure. “If there's anything this job has taught me, it's that people almost always give up before the fight is won.”
She swallowed and nodded, turning back to look at him. “I'll think about it.”
“Thank you.” He checked his watch again and drained his coffee. “And on that note, I'd better go and feed the starving masses. Well, my colleagues... It was lovely meeting you, Alice.”
“Likewise, Ianto,” she stayed seated when he stood up. “Maybe you should bring him over for Sunday dinner some time.”
Ianto smiled at her. “I think he'd rather the suggestion came from you,” he pointed out. “I'll see you again soon, I'm sure.”
“I'm sure you will,” she murmured at his retreating back. Oh, if only she were ten years younger and he weren't dating her father. Ianto Jones was a mystery she wouldn't have minded cracking herself.
An Explosion Would Ruin The Decor For Idamus
Jack was crouching down next to one of the many rickety tables when Ianto found him. One eye was open, studying the ornaments scattered on the tabletop, and he waved at Ianto vaguely. “I think I've found it,” he informed him, pointing to a brooch with a large green stone set into it.
“Very pretty,” Ianto commented dead-pan. “What is it?”
“It's a brooch.”
“Oh...” he crouched down next to Jack and joined him looking at it from this level. “What is it really?”
“A lot of things. Mainly a brooch,” he flicked a glance at Ianto, who rolled his eyes. “But it has some nifty little add-ons like an emergency teleport, a sonic modulator of some sort, and I think it has a self-destruct as well.”
“You think?” Ianto hissed in alarm. “Can't you be any more sure?”
“Not without picking it up,” he waved two fingers at it. “And if I pick it up...”
“It might blow your fingers off,” Ianto realised.
“And then some,” he agreed. Ianto continued studying the (possibly) deadly brooch, and Jack stood up, looking around. “Have you got a containment box on you?”
“Of course,” he didn't take his eyes off it, but waved at his satchel. “It's in there.”
“How very organised,” Jack commented approvingly. He ran his fingers through Ianto's hair distractedly, as if he needed something to do with his hand. “Can you provide a distraction?”
Ianto stood up, carefully so as not to knock the table, and looped one arm around Jack's waist so that he could kiss his cheek and whisper, “Are you going to steal it?”
Jack chuckled and turned Ianto towards him, pressing their chests and cheeks together. “Do you want to explain why I refuse to handle it, or to let anyone else handle it?”
“Fair point,” Ianto squeezed Jack and stepped back, kissing his cheek. “You look at shiny things, I'll go and find us a desk.”
“Make sure it's...”
“Sturdy, I know,” he waved at Jack and headed for the shop clerk who was watching them curiously. “Hi, hello,” he smiled cheerily, “I wonder if you could help me. My partner and I are looking for a new desk... well, I say we. He appears to have got distracted by shiny things. We're looking for a period piece...”
The clerk beamed at him and gestured down the aisle. “Certainly, sir. It depends what period you're looking for, of course, but we have a few pieces you could look at.”
“Thank you.”
Fifteen minutes later, whilst Ianto tried to describe the styling of the snug in his and Jack's new house, a large hand settled onto his waist and Jack interrupted with, “That one looks solid.”
Ianto rolled his eyes and smiled tightly at the clerk. “I'm so sorry. He's not quite house-trained yet. Jack, behave.”
The clerk laughed nervously, and Jack pouted. “Sorry, but it does. I can't help it if you always assume I'm talking about sex.”
“I'm usually right,” Ianto pointed out.
“Be that as it may,” Jack wrapped one arm tighter around Ianto's waist and held his hand out to the poor girl. “Jack Harkness.”
“Abbie, Mr Harkness,” she shook it nervously, looking like she expected an electric shock or a snog. “Your partner was trying to decide what period your snug is...”
“Oh, nineteen eighties mock-Victorian,” he supplied with a grimace of distaste. “I want to rip the whole lot out and start again.”
“Now he tells me,” Ianto sighed. “So there's no point getting the desk?”
“Oh, there's absolutely point in getting the desk,” Jack disagreed. “We can choose the furniture and decorate to match. It's much easier getting paint and wallpaper to match furniture than the other way around; isn't that right, Abbie?”
“It definitely is,” she agreed, warming to the topic now Jack wasn't flirting simply by existing. “Would you be looking for a set of furniture, then?”
Ianto surrendered himself to being steered around the huge warehouse to look at desks, chairs and sofas, conscious of the weight that Jack had slipped into his pocket when he wound his arm around Ianto's waist in that singularly possessive display for Abbie. He let Jack steer him around and offered his opinion on the various combinations and styles of furniture, surprised when he eventually found himself agreeing to a set that included a desk with matching chair and a deep sofa and armchair upholstered in a dark caramel fabric.
When they emerged from the shop, Ianto transferred the containment box into his shopping bag and took Jack's hand. “We're a couple...” he trailed off and refused to meet Jack's eyes.
Jack laughed and tugged on his hand, then looped his arms around Ianto's waist loosely, nuzzling his nose against Ianto's jaw. “We've bought a house together, and you've only just realised? I must be slipping.”
“No. No, it's just...” he shut up when Jack kissed him and sighed into it, holding Jack in place with his free hand. Middle of the street, during the lunch hour peak time, with a stolen alien brooch in his shopping bag... not the best time, but who cared, really?
Pass the Test
Ianto looked up at Jack's office again and bit his lip, then back to the Rift predictor. Tosh wheeled over to him and peered over her glasses at the screen. “What do you need to know, Ianto?”
He sighed and looked over his shoulder at her. “What are the chances of something coming through today?”
“At ninety-five percent certainty, the probability of something coming through the Rift today is 3%,” she reeled off with a smile. “Go on, get him out of here.”
“Thank you, Tosh,” he flicked the screen off and got up to hug her shoulders. “We'll come back and do the night again.”
“I know,” she smiled up at him and shook her head. “You always do. Enjoy the test.”
He chuckled and slipped his wallet and phone into his trouser pockets, then went around the desks to knock on Jack's door. “Hey, you busy?”
Jack sighed and shook his head, but didn't look up from the file he was reading. “Always... but never too busy for you,” he glanced to the side and smiled at Ianto. “You bored?”
“To tears,” Ianto confirmed, closing the door behind him quietly and coming to stand behind Jack, resting his hands on his shoulders. “Let me take you away from all of this.”
Jack chuckled and lowered the papers slightly. “Run away together into the sunset?”
“We could,” Ianto agreed. “But Mam would hunt us down and kill us. I had something a little less permanent in mind.”
“Shame,” Jack looked up at him at last, flashing a grin. “I was enjoying images of you stretched out on a beach on my Caribbean island.”
“Was I lobster red?” Ianto bent down and kissed Jack's temple. “Because otherwise it was just a fantasy.”
“Hey, fantasies have their advantages,” Jack protested, reaching up to hold Ianto in place so that he could kiss him properly. When he broke away, it was with a wry smile. “You don't get sand in uncomfortable places in fantasies.”
“I suspect that some people do,” Ianto chuckled and slides his hands down to start unbuttoning Jack's shirt. “Help me out here, we've got half an hour to get there.”
“Where are we going?” Jack does as he's told and starts working on his buttons from the bottom up to meet Ianto in the middle.
“That's my surprise,” Ianto laughed and tugged Jack's braces down. “Grab the suntan lotion.”
An hour later they found their seats and settled down in them, juggling pints of beer in plastic cups and tubs of ice cream. Ianto had managed to get very good seats in a reserved seating area through the judicious application of several owed favours, an ingratiating manner and the fact that the officials were just relieved that he hadn't turned up to shut them down for the day. He chuckled at Jack's still bemused expression and put his beer down next to his chair carefully. “You're not the only one who can extract a favour,” he pointed out. “And some of us can do it without having to Retcon people.”
Jack laughed and put his ice cream down on his knee, then his beer onto the floor next to his chair. “I should have brought my tankard. They're more stable...”
“You have a tankard?” Ianto stared at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?”
“How come I'm only your boyfriend when I've done something wrong?” Jack dug into his ice cream and pouted theatrically. “Do you only like me when I'm naughty?”
Ianto leaned in very carefully and smeared ice cream across Jack's cheek, making him shriek. “You are so gay.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Jack smirked at him and got his answer when Ianto dragged him in for a kiss. “Love you too,” he added softly when they broke apart.
“I know,” Ianto rubbed their noses together and smiled. “Or am I supposed to say 'I love you'? Have you got your precognition turned on again?”
Jack laughed and rested their foreheads together. “There's a TV camera pointing right at us.”
“Let it,” Ianto kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “it'll give people something to watch until play starts.”
“I think that's about now,” Jack lifted his head to watch the cameras swinging around to focus on the pavillion steps. “Who won the coin toss?”
“England,” Ianto got on with eating his rapidly melting ice cream and watching the team gathering on the pitch. “They opted to bat first.”
“Thanks for that, Sherlock, I would never have guessed,” Jack drawled.
“Pompous ass,” Ianto muttered into his ice cream.
Jack finished his ice cream and draped his arm over Ianto's shoulders, curling his fingers around a well-developed biceps and squeezing gently. “Thank you.”
Leaning into him, Ianto smiled into his ice cream. “You're welcome. We would both have been miserable if we'd only had Test Match Special to keep up with it. Besides, the day looked quiet, and there was no point staying down there whilst we could be up here.”
“You don't need to explain it to me, Ianto,” Jack laughed. “I'd be happy to be on a stake-out in the rain if I got to spend it with you.”
It was said with such sincerity that Ianto couldn't find a response. He turned his head to rest his cheek against Jack's shoulder and smiled. “Only because I'd be soaked and with clinging and see-through clothes,” he said at last. “And probably huddling against you and complaining.”
“Well...” Jack laughed and kissed his temple. “I'd also get to take you home afterwards, give you a long, hot bubble bath, and then tuck you into bed, all flushed from the heat...”
“Jack,” Ianto sighed and turned his attention back to the game. “No fantasies in public. It's just not cricket.”
Rhiannon Investigates
Ianto set Rhiannon's mug down carefully and waved her back into her seat. “I've got it, it's fine,” he assured her. “Milk and one sugar, right?”
“Like you need to ask,” she scoffed, still watching his broken wrist as if she expected his hand to drop off, or something equally dire. “Are you going to tell me what you were doing to injure yourself this time?”
He sighed and collected his own coffee, returning to the sofa to sit down with it and tuck his leg under himself to face her. “I fell downstairs.”
“Ianto...”
“I did!” he protested. Okay, so he'd been pushed by an alien trying to get him away from her babies, but she hadn't meant any harm, and she'd been very apologetic once they got the translation feed working and Gwen had managed to calm her down, and Jack's face when he came thundering down the stairs had been worth it. He took another sip of his coffee and smiled. “It's not even that bad, I've just been told to take a day off work to rest it.”
“Every time I see you, you've got some new injury,” she said darkly.
He looked away guiltily. It was true, he only got to see her on his injury days, because his rare official days off were spent with Jack. They did sometimes go to see Rhiannon or his mam, but mostly they grabbed the day and spent it doing the things they never got to do normally. “I appear to have developed a clumsy streak,” he said at last.
“That's what Karen said...”
It took Ianto a moment to remember which of Rhiannon's many friends Karen was, so he had a mouth full of coffee when he twigged. Rhiannon got up to pat his back ineffectually whilst he choked. “Rhi... no,” he said firmly, rubbing his chest. “No, it's not Jack.”
“Are you sure?” she looked sceptical but relieved. “I don't want to think that... Look, Ianto,” she cut across his attempts to insist further, “I like Jack, you know I do. And I know he's... I'm not stupid, I can tell he's depressed or stressed or something. But that's no excuse, if he's taking it out on you. And I don't doubt that you can take care of yourself and get it sorted out, so I'm not saying you should leave him, either. But I don't want you to think that no one's noticed. I don't want you to think that I don't worry.”
Ianto leaned back into the sofa and sighed. “Is Mam worrying too?”
“Of course she is,” she assured him.
Rhiannon had taken his mug whilst he was choking, so he ran his hand through his hair. “It's not him, Rhiannon. I can't explain why it's happening so often, but Jack would never hurt me.”
She sighed and nodded, settling back down more comfortably. “So it's true. You're Torchwood.” He gaped at her and she smiled slightly. “After that explosion down Butetown way last week, you were just on the edge of the shot on the news. David spotted you and asked if you're bomb squad. Well, what was I supposed to say? I told him that if you were, you weren't very good at it, were you? But it set me to thinking, because you're always getting hurt, and you're always busy when something like that happens, and there's Jack in that bloody great coat... not exactly subtle, is he?”
Ianto chuckled and shook his head. “Subtlety's not part of his repertoire.”
“You'll note that I'm not asking how extensive his repertoire is,” Rhiannon said primly, smirking into her tea. “I hardly believe it, my baby brother's Torchwood.”
He shook his head and reached out for his coffee again. “Promise me you'll keep this one quieter than you did me and Jack? Because we're not supposed to exist. Mind you, neither is Jack.”
“What do you mean?”
“He's...” part alien, born in the future, immortal, been living here longer than anyone should be able to understand, “sort of classified. His identity's... it's weird.”
Her eyes and mouth went round. “You mean like James Bond?”
“Except for the bit where everyone's heard of James Bond, yeah,” he chuckled.
“Well,” she opened and closed her mouth a few times and took a sip of her tea to stop the goldfish impression. “That'll make getting a civil partnership more difficult.”
Ianto choked on coffee for the second time in the conversation. Warning: Discussion of domestic violence
