Just Like A Jones 17/25
TITLE: Just Like A Jones
Chapter: 17/25
Rating: g - nc-17 for the whole series
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto. Mica. Martha. Gwen/Rhys. Lois. Johnny/Rhiannon. OC's
Synopsis: Mica may be a Davies, but sometimes she acts like a Jones. Set 13 years in the future. The world is a very different place, and Torchwood is a world that Jack doesn't want to know, but a promise made a long time ago brings him back to their door whether he likes it or not. Mica is in awe of a past she didn't know and a man she barely remembers, but her passion for his world takes her on a journey she never expected.
Spoilers: Aftermath of COE.
Disclaimer: Not mine, if it was this woul not need to be written.
A/N - I shall make you happy! jut watch me! happy fix.
Thanks. Thanks to everyone who has replied so far XD. As i have said before it was lack of feedbak that made me give up before, but the comment i got for ch8 made me so happy and confident and determined to keep going for this fandom. )
a/n - had to do an edit. it' the right version from 17:17. more tomorrow.
PART 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
DATE: Tuesday 31st March 2009
TIME: 02:15
He's sleeping now. Another one of those hard days. Memories and blood all merged into one; another time Jack Harkness feels the need to lay his head on me and pour out his heart until I can see it breaking when I look into his eyes.
He tells me so much. Never too much, but enough for me to feel like I'm some kind of therapy and relief for him.
I tell him everything, absolutely everything, even the things he doesn't want to know. I tell him about my guilt and my pain, my confusion and my fears; it's nothing compared to his. I tell him how I feel like I'm living a lie, trapped in-between two realities; caught between the man he knows and the man my family see. I'm not sure I know who the real one is any more, but maybe he does.
Jack tells me more than he used to and goes far beyond the tales of far off places and conquests. He tells me about his pain, and he cries into the warmth of me, then clings on as though there's nothing else; his fingers hurt after a while and his tears burn through my skin, but I'm happy that he feels he can do it. It was a surprise at first. When you find out that Jack Harkness has feelings it's the same kind of thought process that you must go through when you find out that God really is an old man wearing a toga with a great big white beard. It's odd, but strangely human, to hear him talking about fear and loss and pain and joy. Jack might be the most human person I know, but maybe that's because he's had so much practice. He's not as numb as you would think. The lives he has lived scare me an amaze me in equal measure. Sometimes I wish I could have been part of them and other times, when I see who he was, I'm glad I wasn't. His immortality is a curse, both to him and me.
But despite all that we say, there is one word we never use. Between the bedsheets in the middle of the night and heavy breaths and pounding chests we say so much; 'I need you' and 'I want you'. We never say that other word, it's almost like it doesn't exist between us. We sweat and we bite, we kiss and we touch, sometimes it's nice and we sleep the whole night wrapped up in each others' arms, but we never say that word. That word is never on his lips, even when he's writhing in the sheets whimpering out every other word in existence, grasping handfuls of whatever material he can find just to stop himself from losing what little control he has left; it seems like that word is never on his mind, but it never leaves mine. I will tell him one day, but I know he'll never say it back. Jack Harkness doesn't fall in love, he doesn't let himself, I can only presume that it's because it's too hard to love when you have to watch them die; I know only too well how that feels.
Lisa.
Being with her was nothing like being with him. She was warm and loving and her hair used to smell of coconuts and Vanilla; sometimes he is rough and hard and fast, his hair smells like sweat and passion. But after it's over and he wraps me up in his arms it's similar; he doesn't leave now, he doesn't even try, and he kisses my neck with soft fluttering kisses, then drifts off into a peaceful smiling sleep. He never lets me go, not until I break away for a shower and scrub away the guilt of comparing them in my mind.
I watched her die twice, sort of, and the pain of losing her broke my heart into pieces so small that I was sure I could never be whole again. Then it happened. He came into my bed and found his way into my heart, and I felt the pieces slowly mend. Sometimes I'm grateful and sometimes I realise that being with him causes more breaks in my heart than he could ever possibly heal. But I'd never give him up; being with him hurts less than losing him.
I'll never lose him, not the same way that I lost her; he can't die and he can't leave me like she did. He can walk away but he can never die. He craves the feeling of death in the same way that mortals crave to feel alive; it's a grass-is-always-greener scenario, I think. I wouldn't want thousands of lifetimes, I would settle for one with Jack, but that will never happen. I'll die young and he'll move on. He'll forget me and I'll be another story, another blip in his time line. I'll be just like all the others; another person he couldn't bring himself to love.
~~~~~*~~~~~~
DATE: Wednesday 1st April 2009.
TIME: 17:30
Aliens know about April fools day? That's wrong somehow. The threat appeared just after 4am this morning, an appearance in the middle of the bay, then disappeared just before noon with a message left in the sand in green mucus. After three hours of decoding using the software that Toshiko had lovingly created just months before her death I finally found out what it said.
'April Idiot Torchwood'
Jack was amused, I was angry, Gwen was just relieved. I have nothing more to say on that. I need coffee, strong coffee. Jack can have instant. I'm feeling cruel. Maybe I'll even break out the mellow birds; he deserves that.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Wednesday 1st April 2009
TIME: 15:50
Well. That did not go well.
Jack pouted, held me against the wall of his office and kissed me so softly I felt as though his lips were still there a minute after he pulled away.
He smiled at me.
He kissed that spot just below my ear.
He held my hand and ran his fingers over my palm.
Jack Harkness said sorry without actually saying it.
I gave him proper coffee.
And the last apple Danish.
Bastards.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Monday 7th April 2009
TIME: 06:12
Note to self.
When Jack wakes up remember to roll up a newspaper and hit him over the head with it.
Underwear on the ceiling fan again. I do not have time to retrieve it before work. He shall retrieve it when I'm in the shower, and then he will make me toast because he has been a very naughty boy.
?
A very naughty boy?
Is it possible?
Could role-play actually have seeped into my mind and warped it?
Never et Jack read this
I will never live it down.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Monday 7th April 2009
TIME: Late for work!
Shit!
I called him a naughty boy and hit him with the newspaper. The words were out my mouth before I could retract them.
He did retrieve the underwear from the ceiling fan and he did make me toast but not before he made me follow through on my masterful nature. Twice.
Also worth noting. Yesterday's Sunday times does make a very good spanking toy.
Time for work.
We're late.
By an hour
Gwen will be sitting there at her desk waiting for us to come in and then she's going to drag me out to Starbucks for a 'debrief' on my morning activity. Sometimes I swear she gets a sexual kick out of it.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Wednesday 9th April 2009
TIME: 16:51
Weevil blood on my pink shirt.
That's a stain that never lifts!
Bugger!
Shopping Saturday then.
I'll take Gwen, she likes that. I am starting to worry a little about our relationship, it's getting a little sex and the city for me.
Maybe we need a pint and a kebab instead.
I'll take Jack shopping. He could do with some jeans. Just one pair. That's all I ask.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Monday 14th April 2009
TIME: 18:30
Officially missed Mica's birthday party.
Shit.
Rhiannon is going to kill me.
It's this bloody job. It's the only one I can never quit.
Weevils are currently lurking around in Bute Park so I'm not going to get there before her bedtime either. Maybe tomorrow?
~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Thursday 17th April 2009
TIME: 10pm
Mica's birthday has come and gone again.
Monday: Weevils
Tuesday: Archives overhaul due to odd smelling artifact that turned out to be Alien whoopee-cushion. (Not amused... well... maybe a little amused)
Wednesday: More rift shit to deal with.
Thursday: Selfish. Jack-related delay.
Tomorrow maybe?
I'll get her something good next year, really good.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Sunday 20th April 2009
TIME: 21:00
Sunday lunch out didn't really go according to plan.
Jack died instead.
Must stop trying to do anything domesticated with my immortal... boyfriend/friend/lover/boss.. whatever he is...
It never really works out.
I've heard of complicated relationships but this brings it to a whole new level. I'd like one day, jut one day, where we could be normal. Wake up together, make breakfast go shopping, fight about something unimportant and then make up.
Anyway. Weevil made nasty tooth marks on Jack's coat. Must fix the coat.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
DATE: Thursday 24th April 2009
TIME: 23:40
Taking Mica and David to McDonalds tomorrow after school. I'm picking them up. (I do enjoy getting to play normal Uncle Ianto!)
Mica has an extra special present to make up for he delay. I think she'll be happy with it.
Jack asked to come. I said no. Too much to explain.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Friday 25th April 2009
TIME: 23:59
Let the Kids down again.
For good reason.
The world almost ended today. Again. I don't know how many times I can take the feeling, that churning in my gut, telling me that it's the last day I will take a breath. It makes me want to leave Torchwood, right in the middle of it all, and go and see Rhi, Johnny and the kids. Kiss them goodbye. I can't do that, I have to stay and help preserve the world even if it means I give away mine and surrender to the terrifying darkness, the place that Jack tries so hard not to talk about.
But when I think it's all over, when I'm sure that the end is here and the darkness is lurking, waiting around the corner to take me, Jack fixes it.
Every time he has stopped it.
It's like wonder-webbing the hem of the world; it works, but it's no permanent solution, and it does the trick until the next time. He keeps preserving it, sticking it back together until the next time the stitches come lose.
He never gives up. Sometimes he looks so tired. But he's determined and he always finds solutions to problems that nobody else could. He's the reason I don't walk away. He inspires me, helps me grow; I'd love to grow into the person he is. I will never understand how he doesn't give up, but he wouldn't be my Jack if he did
~~~~~*~~~~~
Jack closed the diary. He couldn't read any more just yet.
"I won't give up on you." Jack kissed Ianto's forhead. "Never."
PART 18 HERE
Chapter: 17/25
Rating: g - nc-17 for the whole series
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto. Mica. Martha. Gwen/Rhys. Lois. Johnny/Rhiannon. OC's
Synopsis: Mica may be a Davies, but sometimes she acts like a Jones. Set 13 years in the future. The world is a very different place, and Torchwood is a world that Jack doesn't want to know, but a promise made a long time ago brings him back to their door whether he likes it or not. Mica is in awe of a past she didn't know and a man she barely remembers, but her passion for his world takes her on a journey she never expected.
Spoilers: Aftermath of COE.
Disclaimer: Not mine, if it was this woul not need to be written.
A/N - I shall make you happy! jut watch me! happy fix.
Thanks. Thanks to everyone who has replied so far XD. As i have said before it was lack of feedbak that made me give up before, but the comment i got for ch8 made me so happy and confident and determined to keep going for this fandom. )
a/n - had to do an edit. it' the right version from 17:17. more tomorrow.
PART 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
DATE: Tuesday 31st March 2009
TIME: 02:15
He's sleeping now. Another one of those hard days. Memories and blood all merged into one; another time Jack Harkness feels the need to lay his head on me and pour out his heart until I can see it breaking when I look into his eyes.
He tells me so much. Never too much, but enough for me to feel like I'm some kind of therapy and relief for him.
I tell him everything, absolutely everything, even the things he doesn't want to know. I tell him about my guilt and my pain, my confusion and my fears; it's nothing compared to his. I tell him how I feel like I'm living a lie, trapped in-between two realities; caught between the man he knows and the man my family see. I'm not sure I know who the real one is any more, but maybe he does.
Jack tells me more than he used to and goes far beyond the tales of far off places and conquests. He tells me about his pain, and he cries into the warmth of me, then clings on as though there's nothing else; his fingers hurt after a while and his tears burn through my skin, but I'm happy that he feels he can do it. It was a surprise at first. When you find out that Jack Harkness has feelings it's the same kind of thought process that you must go through when you find out that God really is an old man wearing a toga with a great big white beard. It's odd, but strangely human, to hear him talking about fear and loss and pain and joy. Jack might be the most human person I know, but maybe that's because he's had so much practice. He's not as numb as you would think. The lives he has lived scare me an amaze me in equal measure. Sometimes I wish I could have been part of them and other times, when I see who he was, I'm glad I wasn't. His immortality is a curse, both to him and me.
But despite all that we say, there is one word we never use. Between the bedsheets in the middle of the night and heavy breaths and pounding chests we say so much; 'I need you' and 'I want you'. We never say that other word, it's almost like it doesn't exist between us. We sweat and we bite, we kiss and we touch, sometimes it's nice and we sleep the whole night wrapped up in each others' arms, but we never say that word. That word is never on his lips, even when he's writhing in the sheets whimpering out every other word in existence, grasping handfuls of whatever material he can find just to stop himself from losing what little control he has left; it seems like that word is never on his mind, but it never leaves mine. I will tell him one day, but I know he'll never say it back. Jack Harkness doesn't fall in love, he doesn't let himself, I can only presume that it's because it's too hard to love when you have to watch them die; I know only too well how that feels.
Lisa.
Being with her was nothing like being with him. She was warm and loving and her hair used to smell of coconuts and Vanilla; sometimes he is rough and hard and fast, his hair smells like sweat and passion. But after it's over and he wraps me up in his arms it's similar; he doesn't leave now, he doesn't even try, and he kisses my neck with soft fluttering kisses, then drifts off into a peaceful smiling sleep. He never lets me go, not until I break away for a shower and scrub away the guilt of comparing them in my mind.
I watched her die twice, sort of, and the pain of losing her broke my heart into pieces so small that I was sure I could never be whole again. Then it happened. He came into my bed and found his way into my heart, and I felt the pieces slowly mend. Sometimes I'm grateful and sometimes I realise that being with him causes more breaks in my heart than he could ever possibly heal. But I'd never give him up; being with him hurts less than losing him.
I'll never lose him, not the same way that I lost her; he can't die and he can't leave me like she did. He can walk away but he can never die. He craves the feeling of death in the same way that mortals crave to feel alive; it's a grass-is-always-greener scenario, I think. I wouldn't want thousands of lifetimes, I would settle for one with Jack, but that will never happen. I'll die young and he'll move on. He'll forget me and I'll be another story, another blip in his time line. I'll be just like all the others; another person he couldn't bring himself to love.
~~~~~*~~~~~~
DATE: Wednesday 1st April 2009.
TIME: 17:30
Aliens know about April fools day? That's wrong somehow. The threat appeared just after 4am this morning, an appearance in the middle of the bay, then disappeared just before noon with a message left in the sand in green mucus. After three hours of decoding using the software that Toshiko had lovingly created just months before her death I finally found out what it said.
'April Idiot Torchwood'
Jack was amused, I was angry, Gwen was just relieved. I have nothing more to say on that. I need coffee, strong coffee. Jack can have instant. I'm feeling cruel. Maybe I'll even break out the mellow birds; he deserves that.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Wednesday 1st April 2009
TIME: 15:50
Well. That did not go well.
Jack pouted, held me against the wall of his office and kissed me so softly I felt as though his lips were still there a minute after he pulled away.
He smiled at me.
He kissed that spot just below my ear.
He held my hand and ran his fingers over my palm.
Jack Harkness said sorry without actually saying it.
I gave him proper coffee.
And the last apple Danish.
Bastards.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Monday 7th April 2009
TIME: 06:12
Note to self.
When Jack wakes up remember to roll up a newspaper and hit him over the head with it.
Underwear on the ceiling fan again. I do not have time to retrieve it before work. He shall retrieve it when I'm in the shower, and then he will make me toast because he has been a very naughty boy.
?
A very naughty boy?
Is it possible?
Could role-play actually have seeped into my mind and warped it?
Never et Jack read this
I will never live it down.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Monday 7th April 2009
TIME: Late for work!
Shit!
I called him a naughty boy and hit him with the newspaper. The words were out my mouth before I could retract them.
He did retrieve the underwear from the ceiling fan and he did make me toast but not before he made me follow through on my masterful nature. Twice.
Also worth noting. Yesterday's Sunday times does make a very good spanking toy.
Time for work.
We're late.
By an hour
Gwen will be sitting there at her desk waiting for us to come in and then she's going to drag me out to Starbucks for a 'debrief' on my morning activity. Sometimes I swear she gets a sexual kick out of it.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Wednesday 9th April 2009
TIME: 16:51
Weevil blood on my pink shirt.
That's a stain that never lifts!
Bugger!
Shopping Saturday then.
I'll take Gwen, she likes that. I am starting to worry a little about our relationship, it's getting a little sex and the city for me.
Maybe we need a pint and a kebab instead.
I'll take Jack shopping. He could do with some jeans. Just one pair. That's all I ask.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Monday 14th April 2009
TIME: 18:30
Officially missed Mica's birthday party.
Shit.
Rhiannon is going to kill me.
It's this bloody job. It's the only one I can never quit.
Weevils are currently lurking around in Bute Park so I'm not going to get there before her bedtime either. Maybe tomorrow?
~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Thursday 17th April 2009
TIME: 10pm
Mica's birthday has come and gone again.
Monday: Weevils
Tuesday: Archives overhaul due to odd smelling artifact that turned out to be Alien whoopee-cushion. (Not amused... well... maybe a little amused)
Wednesday: More rift shit to deal with.
Thursday: Selfish. Jack-related delay.
Tomorrow maybe?
I'll get her something good next year, really good.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Sunday 20th April 2009
TIME: 21:00
Sunday lunch out didn't really go according to plan.
Jack died instead.
Must stop trying to do anything domesticated with my immortal... boyfriend/friend/lover/boss.. whatever he is...
It never really works out.
I've heard of complicated relationships but this brings it to a whole new level. I'd like one day, jut one day, where we could be normal. Wake up together, make breakfast go shopping, fight about something unimportant and then make up.
Anyway. Weevil made nasty tooth marks on Jack's coat. Must fix the coat.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
DATE: Thursday 24th April 2009
TIME: 23:40
Taking Mica and David to McDonalds tomorrow after school. I'm picking them up. (I do enjoy getting to play normal Uncle Ianto!)
Mica has an extra special present to make up for he delay. I think she'll be happy with it.
Jack asked to come. I said no. Too much to explain.
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: Friday 25th April 2009
TIME: 23:59
Let the Kids down again.
For good reason.
The world almost ended today. Again. I don't know how many times I can take the feeling, that churning in my gut, telling me that it's the last day I will take a breath. It makes me want to leave Torchwood, right in the middle of it all, and go and see Rhi, Johnny and the kids. Kiss them goodbye. I can't do that, I have to stay and help preserve the world even if it means I give away mine and surrender to the terrifying darkness, the place that Jack tries so hard not to talk about.
But when I think it's all over, when I'm sure that the end is here and the darkness is lurking, waiting around the corner to take me, Jack fixes it.
Every time he has stopped it.
It's like wonder-webbing the hem of the world; it works, but it's no permanent solution, and it does the trick until the next time. He keeps preserving it, sticking it back together until the next time the stitches come lose.
He never gives up. Sometimes he looks so tired. But he's determined and he always finds solutions to problems that nobody else could. He's the reason I don't walk away. He inspires me, helps me grow; I'd love to grow into the person he is. I will never understand how he doesn't give up, but he wouldn't be my Jack if he did
~~~~~*~~~~~
Jack closed the diary. He couldn't read any more just yet.
"I won't give up on you." Jack kissed Ianto's forhead. "Never."
PART 18 HERE