Torchwood Fic: Constant (3/?)
Title: Constant (3/?)
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: R/NC17
Warning: None
Spoilers: Set after 2.13. Spoilers for both series 1 and 2, and a bit DW: Last of the Time Lords and The Shakespeare Code
Summary: There has been one constant in Ianto’s life. And Jack will just have to deal with it.
Beta: rakina
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em - unfortunately
A/N: This is the sequel to my story Lynchpin. I would suggest you read that first otherwise it might be a tad confusing. Those of you who asked for a sequel... I hope you’re happy - it’s all your fault! Lynchpin was very much Jack’s POV... this is overall more Ianto’s show. Where Lynchpin focused more on Torchwood Four, Constant is more about Ianto’s rather unique family background - and a certain relative of his.
Lynchpin here: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/21730.html
Constant chapter one: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/23390.html
Constant chapter two: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/23692.html
Chapter Three
Snippet:
“Well, you do qualify for a free bus pass,” deadpanned Ianto. “Though to look at you they might ask a few questions, and I’m not sure we want anyone to see your birth certificate.”
Ianto raced to the Tourist Office. His heart thumping, not from exertion, but from excitement, as he pushed aside the beaded curtain and stared around the small room that realistically did more damage than good to South Wales tourism. Although he knew for definite that the door to the outside had been locked, he also knew that would not be an obstacle to his visitor.
A man stood waiting with his back to Ianto, seemingly examining a poster about the Gower, with his hands thrust into the pockets of a pair oxford bags. He wore a short black leather jacket and a preposterous bobble hat with multicoloured stripes pulled down so it obscured his hair completely. He turned around and, spotting Ianto, grinned.
Ianto was rooted to the spot, taking the time to examine the man before him. He didn’t look that much older than himself, maybe early thirties at a push. His face was long and gaunt, but clean shaven, and his dark eyes sparkled with recognition.
Ianto hadn’t been sure quite what to expect, having witnessed this man in a number of reincarnations, but the smile that spread across Ianto’s face was filled with genuine affection. “I always preferred you with the beard.”
“Now, young man, is that any way to talk to your grandfather?”
Ianto couldn’t help himself and, with a rush of unusual exuberance, he flung himself into his grandfather’s open arms. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”
“Oh, I have a fair idea,” his grandfather replied. “Probably as much as I am to see you are unscathed after another Torchwood fuck-up.”
Ianto pulled away. “Can we both accept you don’t like the fact I’m here and that I’ve no intention of leaving? That way we might stand a chance of not falling out within minutes of meeting.”
He tried to duck away as his grandfather ruffled his hair. “Stop it, Granddad. You know I hate that!”
“Why do you think I do it?” his grandfather said with a wink.
Ianto rolled his eyes which earned him a glare. “Come on, let’s go and grab a coffee; somewhere away from here, since I can practically see your skin crawling at the thought of being this close to Torchwood.”
“I have the perfect place in mind - a little place in Splott… excellent fruit buns.”
“Splott’s a fair walk from here - there’s a Starbucks just around the corner,” suggested Ianto.
“We could catch a bus.”
Ianto saw his grandfather’s eyes light up. “What is it with you and buses?”
“I like buses! Last time I was on this planet I didn’t get much of a chance to use them. For some reason it wasn’t deemed appropriate for the PM to travel on public transport.”
“Well, you do qualify for a free bus pass,” deadpanned Ianto. “Though to look at you they might ask a few questions, and I’m not sure we want anyone to see your birth certificate.”
Ianto opened the door to the outside and waved his grandfather through, who chuckled at Ianto’s joke, but turned serious. “Actually, Ianto, you’re not going to be able to call me 'Granddad' in public. You’re likely to be carted away in a straight-jacket if someone hears you.”
“I doubt anyone will care. But if it makes you happy I suppose I could call you by your real name,” Ianto conceded. “Though maybe I'll use the abbreviated form - Koschei is not exactly a common name in Cardiff.”
“Oh, I don’t know… people will probably think I’m Polish.”
Ianto sighed noisily. “Fine, Koschei it is. Let’s make a move. Sooner we leave the sooner you can ride on the bus.”
“You do know that I’m the grandparent here? I remember saying something very similar to you when you were still small enough to go over my knee without damaging my back.”
Ianto laughed. “You never smacked me… your punishments were much more inventive!”
They both had to bite back a laugh at the shocked expression of an old lady who overheard them as she walked past them on the Plas. “Just imagine what she would’ve thought if she’d heard you call me Granddad,” said Koschei. “Not even your Captain Freaky would stoop low enough to shag his grandfather.”
“Perhaps we should also add Jack to the list of things not for discussion at this point.”
“Fine,” huffed Koschei. He dug his hands back into his pockets as they stopped at a bus shelter. Bringing out a collection of coins he sifted through them, turning the odd one over and occasionally picking one up to stare at it. “I don’t think these are legal tender yet, not unless I’ve really messed up my timing and Queen Bianca is on the throne.”
“Queen Bianca?” asked Ianto incredulously. “Second thoughts, I don’t want to know.”
“Never had you down as a monarchist, Ianto.”
“I’m not.” Ianto removed his own collection of small change from a trouser pocket. “I should have enough.”
A single-decker bus drew to a halt at the shelter. Ianto couldn’t stop himself smirking as his grandfather bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. “This is ours.”
“Great! Can we sit at the back?”
Ianto paid the driver and shook his head as his grandfather raced to claim the currently unoccupied back seat. He eyed the emergency exit door warily as he saw his grandfather’s hand hover above its release handle. “Don’t you dare,” he warned.
“I have no idea what you mean,” Koschei replied contritely.
“Of course you don’t.” Ianto had been half-hoping that the buses had been suspended due to the recent troubles, since last time he’d endured a bus ride with his grandfather they'd ended up racing from the local police because Koschei had picked a rather inopportune time to release a smoke bomb in a misguided attempt to cheer up his grandson.
“Look here, Ianto. I am the Master, destroyer of worlds, conqueror of time and -”
“Actually while you’re with me you’re my granddad,” Ianto interrupted. “I really don’t want to think about all the things you’ve done.”
Koschei grinned and placed his arm around Ianto’s shoulders. “All right, I’ll behave - well, at least while I’m on the bus.”
Despite his grandfather’s assurances Ianto couldn’t help but remain a little apprehensive. Thankfully the journey was short and they arrived at Splott without incident, apart from a brief staring match between his grandfather and a schoolboy caused by both of them believing they had the sole right to occupy the back seat. However, his grandfather’s enthusiastic noises whenever the bus sped up or went around a corner did draw some rather curious glances from the other passengers.
Koschei jumped down from the bus and grabbing Ianto by the arm he dragged him in the direction of a respectable looking cafe. “This place is great. You’ve gotta to have a fruit bun.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned the fruit buns already,” said Ianto, stepping into the cafe and eyeing his grandfather carefully. He had changed a great deal since he’d regenerated and those changes weren’t just physical.
Ianto sat at the window seat while Koschei went up to the counter to order, only to return moments later looking sheepish. “Can I borrow a fiver?”
With a chuckle, Ianto took out his wallet and dug out a note. “I’ll be giving you pocket money next!”
“What an excellent idea. Be right back.”
Balancing two mugs of tea and a plate of the aforementioned fruit buns, Koschei sat down opposite Ianto. “So, how have you been?” he asked before taking a large bite of one of the cakes, moaning with enjoyment in an almost depraved fashion.
“Oh, you know, same old, really. Death and destruction, zombified colleagues and a taskmaster of a boss - all in a day’s work for Torchwood.” Ianto took a sip of his tea. “And how are you? You seem different somehow - and it’s not just the face.”
“This regeneration went a lot smoother than the last,” Koschei admitted with a shrug. “No more drums.”
“And your other urges?” prompted Ianto carefully.
“Oh, they’re still there,” he said cheerfully, waving a bun. “What’s life if it’s not about spreading mayhem and wanting to inflict pain and suffering on as many people as possible?”
“I see...”
“Oh, Ianto, as if you’d have me any other way!”
“Might be a nice change,” muttered Ianto darkly. “And what's with that ridiculous hat?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Whatever is under there can’t be any worse than the hat itself,” said Ianto reaching over to pull at the knitted monstrosity.
His grandfather batted Ianto’s hand away and tutted loudly. With a grand flourish he removed the hat.
Ianto grinned. “Oh my, you weren’t joking when you said you were ginger!”
TBC
A/N: The next chapter continues with Ianto and his grandfather catching up... hope you like my version of the Master... there’s a lot more of him to come! Comments, as always, are very much appreciated :)
Chapter 4: http://hel-bee.livejournal.com/24140.html