Another Life by a_silver_story | Part 05

Dec 09, 2009 19:34

Title: Another Life
Chapter: 05 | ??
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Alternate Universe, Romance
Rating: NC-17 just to be safe.
Warnings: A bit of angst, and some tentacles and d/c in the future.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Ianto finds himself heartbroken and alone, but eventually learns that no matter what point in Captain Jack Harkness' life he finds himself, they will always fall in love.

Torchwood Index/Masterlist

First Part




Another Life


AL V

Half asleep, Ianto stretched out, his fingers brushing the Captain’s body beside him. Somewhere his conscious registered that the flesh was cold and the Captain was shivering, so he pulled the duvets over himself, pulling them and his body closer to warm him up. The Captain seemed to have been waiting for him to pull closer, curling around him in his sleep and burying his head in Ianto's neck. Holding him close, Ianto slipped back into full unconsciousness, knowing that they’d probably have to get up soon, and already reluctant at the thought.

~*~*~*~

Alarms in the future were just as anger-invoking as alarms in the twenty-first century. The beeping tore Ianto from his sleep while Jack groggily groped around for the button on the clock, before eventually just throwing it against the wall. Ianto rolled his eyes, curled back into the duvet and ignored the Captain’s attempts to draw him from his warm, comfortable cocoon.

“Ow ...” he whimpered, the Captain tugging at his hair gently.

“Ianto ... c’mon ... up you get ....”

“Don’ wanna ...” he mumbled, turning over and trying to bury himself under duvets. He yelped loudly as cold air hit him, his protective covers torn away from him mercilessly. Shuddering at the sudden drop in temperature, he forced his eyes to open, pushing himself onto his back to glare at the Captain.

Jack just grinned cheekily, crawling up the bed to cover Ianto's naked body with his own. Ianto groaned and tried to push him off as lips brushed his neck insistently, and he could feel the Captain’s excitement growing as it pressed into his hip. “MMmgerroffff ...” he mumbled, kissing the shoulder by his mouth before mustering the energy to flip Jack off him and onto his back. The Captain tried to pull him down on top of him, and Ianto nearly managed to get out of bed before finding himself pinned on top of Jack’s chest by arms stronger than his.

“I woke us up early especially ...” Jack muttered into his skin, and Ianto growled. Jack laughed, and forced their mouths together with a hand on the back of Ianto's head. Ianto couldn’t help but relent, taking control as he kissed Jack back, and soon found himself panting and sated, pulling out of the Captain’s body and feeling him curl around him, his head back in Ianto's neck and teeth and lips nipping and caressing the soft skin there.

“We’ve really gotta get up now ....” Ianto groaned, forcing himself upright.

“Shower first?” suggested Jack, with equally suggestive eyebrows and a smirk to match.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Some things don’t change ....” he sighed, pulling on the Captain’s hand and leading him to the bathroom.

~*~*~*~

Gathering up what few things he had, and still warding off a rather amorous Captain, Ianto somehow managed to get up to flat seven without Jack exposing either of them. He walked into the spacious living room, and instantly felt his jaw drop.

This wasn’t a flat - it was a palace! Everything was wooden and cushioned, with heavy curtains on the windows and ornate carvings in the furniture.

“Why aren’t all the flats like this?” he asked, frowning.

“Originally, the idea was that people would live in classes,” Jack told him disdainfully. “so some of the flats are like this, some of them are ... practically bare. Now it’s just who can fit in where, and when we get our next grant - and we have no idea when that’s coming through - we can refurbish everywhere the same.”

“When was your last grant?” Ianto inquired, picking up a strange metal oblong and jumping when a holographic screen appeared out of nowhere in the corner by the squashy sofas.

“Just over a thousand years ago.” sighed Jack. “We’re ... a bit neglected out here.”

“Can’t you apply for a grant?”

“Yes. But we get turned down. Our current budget is enough, and everything is working fine as it is. Occasionally the budget reflects inflation, but only every decade or so when we’re stretched to selling our stuff.”

“Why not go down there yourself and talk them into it using your inexhaustible charm?”

“Find me the spare time, and I’ll go.” he sighed. “You’ve caught me at a fairly quiet time. Usually it’s ... hectic.”

“I’ll find you the time.” smiled Ianto. “Finding time is something I’m very good at.”

Jack smiled, then took the silver oblong he was trying to manipulate into turning the screen off from his hands. “Like this ...” he indicated, pressing a button and watching the screen vanish. “There we go! Now: on with the tour!”

There were five bedrooms in flat seven. Three of them were for children, and two of them were for the adults. Ianto was grateful he wouldn’t have to share a bed with Rhys, and that whoever built the place had the foresight to realise that not all the adults were going to want to sleep in the same room. After realising the number of rooms, though, Ianto did raise an eyebrow.

“There’s three kids’ rooms.” he stated, and Jack shrugged.

“There aren’t any uncared for kids at the moment, but if another one is found then I’m afraid you may have to suffer the pitter-patter of more tiny feet. I’ll see what I can do, but the kids always come first.”

Ianto nodded. “Okay. I just ... I don’t think I’ll be able to cope with one ....”

“It’s fine once you stop being afraid of the baby.”

“I’m not afraid!” scowled Ianto.

Jack chuckled. “Sure you’re not. Besides, you’ll have Rhys, and he’s brilliant with the kids.”

“Mmm.” Ianto murmured, entering the kitchen and looking around. Everything was bare aside from the electronic appliances, and he was severely disappointed to note the lack of coffee machine. The butler sink was made of sandstone and sat elegantly below a window looking out onto the Oriental garden, and he could see the recovery work of the bandstand beginning for the day out by the little stream. He felt guilty, knowing the family that had been sitting under it when it collapsed had probably looked out of this window a thousand times.

He stepped back from the sink and opened the tall fridge, checking how spacious it was, before mentally deciding what would go where. He then started on the drawers, deciding which one would be his, which one would be Rhys’, which one would be for cutlery ... before stopping himself and remembering that Rhys had wanted to be in charge of the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jack, wondering why he’d suddenly paused.

“Oh ... just homesick.” lied Ianto. He was actually Control Sick, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Jack hugged him and stepped back.

“It’s okay, y’know. To miss home. You probably always will. You can talk to me any time, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve got Rhys. He’ll understand better than I will, probably.”

“Yeah.” Ianto repeated, though smiling this time. He hugged Jack again.

“Right!” The Captain clapped his hands. “I have to go to work! You can have the morning off to acquaint yourself with your new home, but I expect you in work after lunch.”

“Should I bring you some sandwiches and we can eat in your office?” suggested Ianto. “Actually ... where do I get food for the kitchen from?”

“Go down the stairs as far as you can go, turn left and ask whomever you might meet on the way where the shop is. Use your fingerprint to buy stuff.”

“How much money do I have?”

“If you haven’t spent any? About .... a month’s worth of wages?” Jack shrugged. “About four thousand Lira, maybe? So buy yourself something nice.” winked Jack. “Now, I’ve really got to go. I’ll find you a map of the building before tonight so you’re not quite so lost, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

The Captain briefly pressed their lips together in farewell, grinned and left Ianto on his own. He decided to find a place for his things first - mainly toiletries - and was pleased to find that each adult bedroom, while being richly furnished like the living room, also had an en suite with toilet, basin, bath and shower. He put his toothpaste and toothbrush in the mirrored cabinet, and his shampoo, conditioner and shower gel in the walk-in shower. He stared at the multiple jets - some of them set into the walls to spray water horizontally - and a few rather steamy scenarios raced through his mind. All of them included Jack.

Of course, he then remembered that he would have to make sure that both Rhys and the child were nowhere near the flat, and at no point about to interrupt or hear them. Children really did put dampers on things, didn’t they?

Ianto slid his wardrobe open, checking to see if it was of agreeable size, and was pleased to see it was spacious. Amusing himself with the echo for a couple of minutes, he kicked himself at his own immaturity. ‘Gonna have to grow up ...’ he thought. ‘A little person is depending on you ....’

He felt himself pale at the thought, slid the door shut and sat heavily on his large bed. It wasn’t as big as Jack’s, but it was nearly as comfy, so he bounced a couple of times to check the springiness of the mattress. He was about to kick his shoes off to jump on it, when he remembered himself and sighed heavily. Ianto was already hating being a parent.

To distract himself, he decided to go to the shop and see what was on offer. He went down the stairs the whole way, as Jack had said, then asked for directions. It was simple enough to find, and when he did he wasn’t quite expecting the sight before him.

The ‘shop’ was actually something similar to a market village, with lots of little stalls and booths all under one roof. Ianto supposed people had to have jobs somewhere, and this was probably it. There were sections of shops selling fruit, vegetables, meat and fish, as well as stalls selling handmade clothes, shoes and accessories. He marvelled at the many different kinds of people all around him: some human, some alien. They all brought their expertise from their homes and their times to co-join with those of others, and what resulted was some spectacular things. Ianto nearly lost himself in a jewellers, staring at the vast array of stones of such depth, shine and beauty he had never seen before, set into the most elegant to the most raucous of metal clasps. The metals were just as beautiful and just as alien, and Ianto felt like nothing on Earth could have ever matched the splendour of these precious stones.

He spoiled himself and bought a pair of cufflinks, before remembering he only had one suit to wear them with. After a quick search, he found the tailors and seamstresses and dressmakers, and quickly sized up which one was the best. Entering the shop, he was greeted by a graceful, almost fluid blue alien, who spoke softly and politely. He quickly took measurements, and showed Ianto all the different materials on offer.

“There’s so many ...” he breathed, running his hands through swatches that felt like butter.

“Ah ... you’re from the past!” smiled the alien - Mr. Turnbull, apparently. “Good ... good ... the past always had better taste!”

Ianto smiled. “I think this is the one ...” He held up a slightly sheer material, that seemed to be trying to fit itself to the form of his hand.

“And what design would sir like?”

“Um ... ?”

“Have a look in the book.” smiled Mr. Turnbull, sliding a piece of plastic towards Ianto. With a teeny amount of experimentation, Ianto figured out how to ‘turn’ the pages and flicked through until he saw a suit that felt just right.

“That one, please.” he indicated, pointing to a three-piece suit with lapels on the waistcoat.

“Oh! I do love that one!” beamed Mr. Turnbull. “So ... when do you want it for?”

“When’s the earliest I could get it?” asked Ianto.

“Probably tonight, but that may cost a little extra.”

“Tonight! You must be a hard worker!”

“I’m ... fluid ...” grinned Mr. Turnbull. “I appear humanoid to you because it makes you more comfortable, but I can have as many arms, legs, heads or bodies as I like.”

“Wow. I wish I could do that sometimes.” smiled Ianto. “Erm ... I’ll just have it when it’s ready. No rush, really.”

“Very well, sir! You must, however, pay now, rather than ....”

“Oh! I was expecting to!”

“Good ...” said Mr. Turnbull darkly. “... the amount of people who took advantage of my trusting nature ....”

“I’m sorry.”

“I learnt.” was all Mr. Turnbull said. “Anyway - three days enough for you?”

“Perfect.” smiled Ianto. “Where do I put my thumbprint?”

~*~

Leaving Mr. Turnbull’s shop (with a significantly lighter ... erm ... thumbprint ....), Ianto made his way back to the food. He decided Rhys would probably want to be in charge of the big shop, so he bought only enough to last himself and Jack the day, as well as some special cuts of meat, some herbs, spices and accoutrements to cook a meal for his new ‘family’ later that night.

Jack had insisted that all the utensils, plates and pans were brand new, and Ianto had no choice but to take him at his word. He did consider buying a new dinner service, but thought the better of it. Rhys would probably want a say in that, too.

With all his shopping bags, he began to make his way towards the exit, and remembered that he’d have to climb all those bloody stairs to get back home. He would definitely be finding time for Jack to appeal for a refurbishing grant, he huffed as he staggered up the final lot of stairs. Even if most of it went on getting a lift, they were getting that effing grant.

Ianto didn’t care if it was selfish and lazy - at least he wasn’t being as selfish and lazy as the guy who planned the M1 to take him directly from Manchester to his house in a straight line.

Finally, he collapsed through his front door, and found an equally out of breath and dishevelled Rhys holding his knees and panting.

“Stairs?” puffed Ianto.

“Aye!” gasped Rhys. After a few moments, he spoke again, must more in control of his lungs. “What’ve you bought?”

“Some stuff for lunch, and then I bought some meat and stuff ‘cause I was planning on cooking for you both tonight. I figured you’d know more what we’d need in a big shop, so didn’t dare chance it.”

Rhys nodded, and had a quick look through the bags. “Mmmmm. I notice you’ve stuck to Earth meats.” he chuckled.

“I have eaten alien meat before.” Ianto insisted, then shut his mouth remembering where the meat had come from that Jack had made him roast. Rhys didn’t seem to clock it, thankfully.

“The Captain made you try some?”

“Yup.”

“And?”

“I still prefer beef.”

Rhys chuckled. “So - I noticed you picked your bedroom already ....”

“Oh ... did you want that one? I just ... I dunno ....”

“S’okay. I was gonna pick the one nearest Jack’s room anyway.”

“I didn’t think. I assumed they were the same ... are they different?”

“Only with the view. Yours looks out onto the Oriental garden. Mine looks out on to grass. Lots and lots of grass.”

“We can switch?”

Rhys looked taken aback. “I wasn’t ... I wasn’t saying that. I was going to pick the room I got anyway.”

“Okay.” Ianto conceded. “Erm ... do you want lunch? I was going to do hot chicken sandwiches.”

“Sounds divine.”

“With pepper?”

“I want to sneeze my way through the meal.”

“Excellent.” grinned Ianto, and picked up the shopping bags and took them into the kitchen. “Oh ... are you going to organise the kitchen? You said you wanted to do the cooking, so I haven’t interfered with anything so ... you can have it how you want it ...”

“I don’t mind you organising where the stuff goes in the house - in fact, I’d prefer it that way. My systems are always flawed.”

“Oh thank God!” gasped Ianto. “Sorry ... erm ... I have a touch of OCD. Letting you take control was ... erm ... well, it was killing me.”

“I honestly couldn’t tell.” Rhys deadpanned. “Now ... you mentioned chicken ....”

Ianto unwrapped the new frying pan that had been hanging on the rack, and gave it a quick sponge down before using it. He fried the chicken breasts whole, seasoned with salt and pepper, and both men’s stomachs started rumbling as the aroma of flavoursome chicken permeated the air. Ianto put them on crusty tiger bread buns, and carefully put his and Jack’s into containers before offering Rhys his on a plate.

“Where you going?” asked Rhys over a mouthful of chicken.

“I eat my lunch with Jack.” Ianto told him firmly. “... the Captain.” He shuffled uncomfortably, realising he was leaving Rhys on his own. “I wouldn’t be back for lunch on a normal day anyway.” he pointed out, remembering his earlier promise of not spending every spare second with Jack. “He wants me in work this afternoon, too,” Ianto called from where he was putting his shoes back on. “so I’ll be back to cook dinner at about five, okay?”

“Fine by me!” Rhys called back, settling himself in front of the TV screen he’d just flicked on. “Have a nice afternoon!”

“Will do!” Ianto replied before closing the door behind him and making his way to Jack’s office. He knocked, and jumped when a very irate ‘WHAT?’ yelled out from inside. He pushed the door open, and found a very stressed Captain inside. He softened when he saw who it was, and smiled a little.

“Sorry ... Ianto ... haven’t had a moment’s peace all morning ...”

“I went to town.” grinned Ianto, passing Jack one of the containers with his piping hot sandwich inside and going to make some coffee.. “It’s beautiful!”

Jack grinned, and took a bite of the chicken. “Mmmm ‘sniz.” he said over his mouthful of food. Ianto returned with two mugs, and grimaced.

“You promised you wouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” he grumbled, taking a sensible bite out of his own sandwich.

Jack swallowed. “Sorry. Habit.”

“I noticed.” smirked Ianto. “So ... where else do the refugees work? Mainly in the shops, I’d guess, but where else is there?”

“Well, there’s teaching. There’s childminding and babysitting. Building maintenance, gardening, policing, catering, administration - all sorts of things.”

Ianto nodded. “Makes sense. So we’re all pretty self-sufficient out here?”

“We do get a lot from outside, but what we make it into is where the value comes from. Did you treat yourself in town?”

“Yahuh.” nodded Ianto. “I bought some cufflinks and a suit with a new shirt. I need to get a tie though.”

“A suit?” Jack’s eyes swept up and down him. “I’ve only seen you in that rather ... ruined one you arrived in. I bet you’d look hot in proper tailoring ....”

“I’m saving it for special occasions.” smiled Ianto. “So you better think of some place posh and upmarket to take me so that I can wear it!”

“Will do.” Jack nodded, and Ianto blinked, not really having meant it. “This is delicious, by the way ....” he continued, taking another bit of the sandwich.

“It’s just ... chicken with salt and pepper ....”

“Sometimes just keeping it simple is better than mixing a gazillion different flavours in the hope of being ‘interesting’.”

Ianto gave a small smile, taking another little bite of his own food. They ate in companionable silence for a while, until Ianto finally spoke again.

“Where did you go last night?” he asked. “You were bloody freezing when you got back.”

“Why? Why do you want to know?”

Ianto frowned at his defensiveness. “You were cold, is all. I wanted to make sure you were okay - and also reassure myself you weren’t stupid enough to go outside without a coat.”

“... see, you’re already getting the parenting schtick.” muttered Jack, leaning back in his chair and scowling.

“I’m not demanding to know, I was just worried is all.” Ianto rolled his eyes.

Jack folded his arms in reply, and Ianto sighed.

“Just don’t go wherever you did without at least putting clothes on, please. For your own sake.”

“Yes, Dad.” mumbled Jack, and Ianto narrowed his eyes at him, searching his body for the tell-tale signs.

“You’re hiding something.”

Jack glared at him. “Like what?”

“I don’t know ... I’m not asking to know ... just ... relax. I’m not prying. You have your secrets. If you don’t want to tell me just say so.”

“Leave it.”

“Then I will.”

“Good.”

“Definitely. Now, I’ve got to get to work.”

“Yup.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, standing and rounding the table to sit on the edge of it, facing Jack. He leant down and kissed him, feeling the Captain’s mouth open and allowing his tongue inside, and they kissed languidly for a few minutes until Ianto's back began to hurt and Jack’s neck ached. They broke apart, and Ianto smiled down at him.

“I’ll drop in on you before five, but I’m cooking tonight so I probably won’t see you until tomorrow.”

“You’re cooking?”

“Yeah - good impression for my new family. I plan on cooking at least once a week anyway.”

“But Rhys doesn’t have a job. Let him do the cooking.”

Ianto gave a small laugh. “I like cooking.”

The Captain pouted, and buried his head in Ianto's stomach. He raised his head and grinned before Ianto managed to extract himself, and Ianto left the office with a thankfully much more relaxed and cheery Captain.

He set to work on the Records Office again, wondering how it could possibly feel messier now than when he started. He made a note to remind himself to ask Jack if he could possibly get a bigger room for the records, or at least another room to store some in. He also decided he probably needed some form of stand-alone heater, as it was getting colder right at the top of the building as the year began to head towards winter.

After two hours or so of shivering, Ianto thought about maybe nipping back to the flat and fetching his coat, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in?” he called, and smiled when Jack appeared in the doorway.

“It’s getting cold,” Jack observed. “so I brought you this ...”

Ianto raised an eyebrow, a little surprised to see the Captain was offering a hot water bottle. “Er ... thanks. That’s ... I was just thinking ...”

“It’s okay.” smiled Jack. “Besides, it’s not as big as mine.” he winked.

Ianto laughed. “Whatever.” he said, taking the hot water bottle. For ease, he shoved it down his shirt to keep his internal organs warm without him having to hold it. “Ever thought about getting little fan heaters?” he asked.

“I think about it every year, put it off and put it off, then totally forget until it starts getting cold again.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “You should ask someone to fetch one for yo - no. I’m not going.”

“It was your idea. And you loved the shops!”

“I didn’t love the stairs.” grumbled Ianto. “When you get your refurbishment grant, we’re getting a lift. I don’t care if stairs keep me fit and healthy: they try to kill me every time I go near them.”

Jack sniggered. “Where would we put a lift, anyway?”

“When I find the blueprints in this mess of a Records Office, I’ll tell you.”

The Captain laughed again, and scanned his eyes over the room. “There they are!” he declared, wandering over to a pile of papers that looked just like any other. He pulled a manila envelope from the middle of it, causing it to fall, and he turned away from it like he hadn’t noticed the mess he’d just made. “Blueprints!” he grinned, shoving the envelope into Ianto's hands.

“How can you do that?” asked Ianto, aghast.

“Call it a sixth sense for organised chaos. I can find anything!”

“No ... I meant ... just knock all those papers over and leave them ....”

“Nobody will notice. Look at the rest of the room.” shrugged Jack.

“I noticed. And it’s me that’s got to clean it up.”

“Had you organised that pile yet?”

“No.”

“Then no harm done.” Jack reasoned.

“That’s beside the point. Now get lost before you cause even more damage to my delicate psyche.”

Jack kissed his lips in goodbye again, and Ianto decided he liked this more affectionate Captain - even if the affection was ‘feigned’. Ianto wanted to believe it wasn’t, and was more than willing to pretend that Jack had feelings for him.

Ianto worked steadily through the day, and at half past four left the organising of files to browse over the blueprints the Captain had found. He scanned over them, using post-it notes (eternally useful) and markers to keep track of his thoughts. Deciding that getting at least two banks of lifts, one at each end of the building, was entirely possible, he leant back in his chair and grinned to himself. Obviously the situation of one of the banks of lifts was curiously close to his own flat. He would check the actual suitability of each floor tomorrow morning, and maybe try and find a builder or architect to check things over before adding to the list of things to do when the money came through.

Which it would.

Ianto - through Jack - would make sure of that.

Leaving the records for the night, he locked the door behind him and made his way down the hall to Jack’s office. He knocked politely and poked his head around the door.

“I found a couple of spots we could put lifts ...” he told him cheerily, indicating the manila envelope of blueprints in his hand. “... I’m going to and check with an architect or builder or something tomorrow, and then maybe we could add it to the Things to be Refurbished list?”

The Captain rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Great ... yeah. Um ... I didn’t realise such list existed ...”

“It does now.” smiled Ianto, entering the office properly and going to perch on the side of the desk, facing Jack.

“You do realise there is next to no chance of us getting a grant?”

“We have to refurbish at some point - all we have to do is make them listen. Just don’t give them the chance to say ‘no’, Jack.”

The Captain regarded him carefully, then tried to change the subject. “Don’t you have enough to concentrate on in the Records Office?”

“I can concentrate on the list properly when I’ve finished that - which should be about two more days, maybe. It only really needs alphabetising, and I’m on ‘Y’ at the moment. And that room’s a lot bigger now that nearly everything is organised - just needs a few more filing cabinets to fit T-Z instead of having them in piles on the floor, and I could use it as my own office.”

“You don’t want that horrible cramped little thing. The last door on your side of the hall is the Accounting Office. Use that. It’ll probably need dusting, but it’s much more spacious ...” Jack suggested.

“Ooh okay then! Anyway, I’ve got to go.”

“Why?”

“I’m cooking tonight, remember?”

“Ahh yeah. Well ... have fun. And ... I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Ianto leant down and kissed him, using a hand on the back of his head to pull him forward and to stroke his hair. “See you tomorrow.”

Closing the door to Jack’s office behind him, he walked home smiling to himself. He got near the front door, and felt suddenly quite nervous. He was about to meet Giacomo, who he was supposedly going to be responsible for, and he had no idea what to do, or to say, or how to behave. First impressions lasted a long time with children, and he didn’t want to balls this up.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the flat.

He found Rhys and Giacomo at the dining room table, both poring over something Giacomo was writing on. Rhys glanced up, and Giacomo turned suddenly shy, trying to hide his face in Rhys’ arm.

“Hello.” Giacomo tried, still shy and a little pink.

“Hi. I’m Ianto.”

Giacomo held his hand out, and Ianto realised he wanted to shake. Ianto took his hand and shook it, sitting at the table beside him and Rhys.

“Jack’s doing percentages for his homework.” explained Rhys. “You’re struggling a bit though, aren’t you love? And I’m just as useless.” winked Rhys.

Giacomo nodded. “Don’t like maths. Can’t do it.”

Ianto smiled. “Let’s see what you’ve got ... ohhh ten per cent? Shall I teach you the easy way to do ten per cent?”

Ianto said a silent prayer of thanks to Rhys. Clearly, he was only pretending to be unable to help Giacomo with this, waiting for Ianto to come home, teach him a little and begin to build a connection.

Giacomo was nodding, offering him his pencil and paper, so Ianto took it and leant over so that they all could see. He explained as clearly as he could how to find the ten per cent of a number ending in a zero, then how the decimal point worked for those that didn’t. Giacomo was attentive, and soon had done pretty much all his homework himself.

“See! That wasn’t too hard really, was it?” smiled Ianto.

Giacomo shook his head. “Still hate maths, though! Can I play now, Rhys?”

“Yeahhh go on. Me and Ianto need to talk.”

Giacomo hopped down from his chair and ran off into the flat, probably to his room where Rhys had already unpacked most of his things.

“Well, I think that went well.” smiled Rhys.

“Thanks for ... y’know ...”

“Don’t mention it. Ice breakers are my forte. Now - we need to figure out how much we’re spending on food, how much on Jack, how much on essentials, how much on luxuries and how much we might put aside as savings or for maintenance.”

“Already did.” Ianto delved into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper he’d been working on since finding out his monthly wage and the general prices of things in the market that morning. Rhys scanned it.

“Bloody hell! How much are you getting paid?”

“... is it a lot? I’m not sure how the currency exchanges ...”

“More than you were earning back home, I’d bet.”

“Really?” Ianto widened his eyes.

“Even with inflation. Bastard Harkness - no offence, it’s not your fault. It’s just ... there’s all kinds of people here who do more than just filing and earn not even a quarter of that - and support families!”

Ianto shuffled a little. “I do more than filing. Tomorrow I’m starting on putting together a portfolio of things to add, rebuild, refurbish or install. And then I have a feeling someone needs to organise the Accounts - according to Jack - Captain - the Accounts office may need dusting thanks to lack of use. So upkeep, Accounts and Expenses, Records and housework.”

“Mmm.” sighed Rhys. “Anyway, I do believe you promised me food?”

Ianto laughed. “Right! I’ll make a start on the gammon.”

“Mmmmmm. Gammon!” grinned Rhys, following him into the kitchen to inspect the cut. “How long will this take to cook?” he asked.

“Hour and a half maybe. Anything we don’t eat tonight can be put in sandwiches tomorrow, or casserole tomorrow night.”

“Yum!” grinned Rhys. “Erm ... I’ll leave you to it, then?"

"Thanks."

Rhys backed out of the room, already fantasising about his meal.

~*~*~*~

It took Ianto a little while to get used to the kitchen, but after that it was easy for him to find his flow. The roast was done a little sooner than expected, but then so was everything else (thanks to the magic future oven somehow knowing what was in it and cooking each thing so that it would all be ready at the same time).

The three of them sat around the table, eating quietly and enjoying the meal too much to make conversation. Ianto seriously hoped he'd made a good impression, and judging from the way both Rhys and Giacomo had wolfed down their food and then asked for more, he was sure he'd made one.

"Perfect!" declared Rhys, gathering up the plates afterwards. They shared some cake and ice cream out into three bowls, and ate their dessert while watching the television.

Ianto wasn't particularly impressed by the programmes on the telly, really. Rhys was right: everything had been done, so the writers, producers and directors were doing everything again. Or, maybe they didn't realise they were doing everything again, and were unfortunately simply repeating twenty-first century televisual styles without knowing what they were doing.

At eight 'o' clock, Rhys invited Ianto to help him put Giacomo to bed, which involved a lot of running around, a lot of forcing flailing limbs into pyjamas and a lot of chasing an indignant child around in circles. Eventually, Ianto decided he wasn't going to be a pushover forever, and crouched down in front of Giacomo, telling him firmly that if he didn't go to bed now, he wouldn't get a story. If he did do as he was told, he would be allowed a story, and some more of the special pork on sandwiches the next day.

Ianto neglected to tell him that pork sandwiches had been on the menu anyway, making him think he was being rewarded. It worked, however, and Giacomo slunk into bed. Rhys sat beside him with a book, and Ianto sat at the foot of the bed to listen.

The child fell asleep in less than fifteen minutes, and Ianto decided not to voice his disappointment at not hearing the end of the story. He couldn't even properly remember what it was about now, anyway.

They crept out of Giacomo's room and collapsed onto the sofa, yawning and stretching.

"Hard work this children business." Ianto said through a particularly wide yawn.

"Yes, it is!" laughed Rhys. "Now - LordoftheRings-athon?"

"Hmmmm .... maybe just the first one. We should really pace ourselves with the awesome." Ianto assessed knowledgeably.

Rhys fiddled with a silver metal box about the size of a CD jewel case, and it popped open. He located The Fellowship of the Ring and popped in the first disc. A couple of minutes later, the excitement prickled in the room as the New Line logo sailed onto the screen.

At exactly the same moment, Rhys Williams, Ianto Jones and Cate Blanchett began reciting the first lines of the movie in low, husky voices.

Rhys grinned to himself.

He could see him and Ianto getting on very well indeed.

A little delay with this chapter - but now that LJ notifications are behaving themselves, so am I!!

Also, a bit thank you to chryssalys, lolafalola, beathen, sweetmm and two anonymous senders. You were all too kind with your v-gifts this Christmas, and they made me feel all warm and loved inside.

Finally, you may have noticed I've added a side bar for ease of navigation. Let me know what you think!

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romance, jack harkness, ianto jones, torchwood, rhys williams, another life

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