Just Like A Jones 30/ 33(ish?)
Just Like A Jones
Chapter: 30
Rating: NC-17 for series
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto. Mica. David. Martha. Gwen/Rhys. Lois. Johnny/Rhiannon.
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 - Sorry for the mamoth delay. combination of university, ill health, computer problems and severe case of writers blockage.
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. ) Please remember to comment and this took so much to get out and im terrified nobody will read it after all the effort. Confidence is all-time low atm too :(
PART 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29
The walk home was silent but comfortable and Ianto's arm never left its position on Mica's shoulder; she snuggled into him, matching his pace step by step and walked against the wind on the way back to the cottage. When he opened the gate for them it came off the hinges and he made a mental note to fix it. It was times like this that Ianto usually had a quip on the tip of his tongue, but not this time. He said nothing. They walked up the cracked path, through the wilderness of the overgrown garden opened the door with a firm push and stepped into the warmth of the house.
Mica peeled her coat off with a little help and looked up at him. She opened her mouth to speak, she wanted to break the deafening silence between them, but there was nothing to say. She smiled tightly, the way that all Jones' did when they were uncomfortable, and backed away a little before looking down at her feet.
“Mica.” Ianto reached out to touch her but she backed away. It was almost as though the very thought of a touch had scared her. “What I did wasn't right, but--.”
Mica held up her hands and closed her eyes, trying to put another barrier between them, then sighed. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“I do.”
“Why don't you understand that I cant?” Mica shook her head. “Not tonight.”
“We have to.”
“No. No, we don't.”
Jack strode into the room from the kitchen. “Good walk?”
“Not really,” she said, “I'm sorry.” Mica walked past Jack and out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Jack looked between the closed door and Ianto then back again. “What happened?”
“Well, she doesn't think I'm perfect any more.”
Ianto hung his coat up and headed into the bathroom to dry his hair off. Jack followed.
“What did you do?”
“Exactly what you told me to,” Ianto said, “I took her for chips and told her something she didn't know. And now she hates me.”
“She could never hate you.” Jack put a hand on his shoulder only to have it shrugged away. “You're her hero.”
“Yeah, don't be so sure about that.”
“What exactly did you tell her?”
“Lisa,” he said, “I told her about Lisa.”
“And?”
Ianto walked into the bedroom and removed most of his clothes, throwing them expertly into the off-white linen hamper in the corner.
“And?” Jack stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment, then leaned on the frame. He waited for him to elaborate.
“What do you mean, 'and?'”
“I thought it was obvious what I meant.”
“And I think it's rather obvious how it went.” Ianto slumped down on the bed and held his head in his hands. “She can't forgive me.”
“Did she say that?”
“She didn't have to. I may not know her, but I know that crushed look in the depths of someone's eyes. She looked at me like someone had died Jack, and I think it was me.”
Ianto covered his face with his hands, slumped down onto the bed and lay there for a moment silently. “I shouldn't even care.”
“And why's that?”
“I like being alone Jack. I like having to answer only to myself. I was never the kind of man who wanted family fussing at his feet.”
Jack lay down beside him. “Not that you would admit anyway.”
“I don't like being the centre of attention, I'm not like you, I like to be the one who lurks in the background unseen and unheard. I shouldn't care that I've disappointed her, but sometimes it's like looking in a mirror.”
“She's your blood, she's you all over.”
“And how much of that is really her and how much is her forming herself in my image, or what she thought to be my image?”
Jack shrugged. “We'll never know.”
Ianto turned his head to face him for the first time. “How do I fix this?”
“You got a brain don'tcha?” Jack smiled. “She's just like you, so think, how would you make up with yourself?”
“I don't know. I can't think about anything right now, my mind is racing too much.” He put his hand on Jack's cheek and locked his gaze. “”Help me, please.”
“Okay.” Jack moved a little closer. “But first kiss me.”
“Is now really the time?”
“Yes.”
Ianto moved towards him and kissed him softly, letting his lips linger for a moment. “Now help me.”
“You call that a kiss?”
“I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, Jack.”
Jack sighed and hovered above the Welshman, placing a hand either side of his head, then covered his body with his weight. “And that is why I have to kiss you,” he said, “to rid your mind of all thought until you begin to see how simple the solution is.”
Ianto let Jack kiss him for a moment before he responded and wrapped his arms around him; he could feel the stress drip away as his lover melted into his mouth. He moved his hands across his back, slipping them underneath his shirt. Jack moved his kisses to the younger man's neck and Ianto arched his neck a little to allow him access. It felt good and right; it had seemed like forever since they had been alone together, but Ianto knew where it was going. The grind of Jack's hips and the williness of his body to surrender seemed just a little wrong given the circumstances. He allowed it for a moment, closing his eyes and resigning to the feeling of the warmth of his lips as they moved towards his collarbone.
“I'm going for a shower. “Ianto pushed Jack away suddenly, then rolled out from underneath him and stood up. “This isn't helping anyone.” He grabbed a towel from the radiator and slung it over his shoulder.
“Want company?”
“It's not that kind of shower.”
“I didn't mean--”
“I know.” Ianto sighed. “I just need a little time on my own.”
Jack grabbed Ianto's wrist as he prepared to walk away. “This isn't something that will go away if you ignore it.”
“I'm going in the shower Jack, not absconding to Greenland.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jack knocked on the bedroom door and waited a moment before entering. The room was dark, illuminated only by an old ceramic lamp beside her bed and the natural light of the sky from the window; Mica lay on the bed, her back to the door. Jack remembered seeing her as a child sulking in exactly the same way, and even though she was ten years older and more mature than a lot of people her age, she still managed to keep hold of that little bit of childishness.
He walked over to the bed, picking up the diary that had been thrown into the bin without another thought, and perched on the edge behind her back. He flicked through the pages, running his fingers over the ink and smiled to himself for a minute before closing it.
He sighed and his smile slowly faded to nothing. “Do you know how bad he feels?”
“So he should,” she said, “he lied to me.”
“No, he didn't.”
Mica sat up, but still didn't face him. “He made me believe he was someone he's not.”
“How?”
She turned around and took the diary, then held it in her hands and ran her fingers over the cover. She had spent years reading his diary over and over until every page was imprinted into her memory, but somehow it all felt a little different now. She lowered her eyes and softened her tone a little. “He never mentions what happened to her, not the truth.”
“And you think that he did that to lie about it?” Jack sighed. “You think that he wrote a diary so that his niece could find it and read it and think he was a hero?”
“I didn't say that.”
“These diaries were for him, not for anyone else. They were his therapy for his eyes only.”
“What did he need therapy for, he had you, wasn't that enough?”
Jack laughed out a breath of air and shook his head. “I really wish it were that simple.”
“You were together,” she said, “I mean I know it was complicated but he told you everything.”
“He told me everything, but he never spoke about her. It was too much.” Jack sat back against the headboard and she moved beside him. “He couldn't kill her, he loved her too much, but he had to watch me do it for his own good and I don't think he ever really forgave me for that.”
“You made him sound so perfect.” Mica rested her head on the headboard and turned it to the side. “All your stories about how brave he was and how much you loved him.” She smiled sadly. “Mam's just the same. You make him seem so perfect, like he could do no wrong and now I find this out and it's like I don't know what to believe any more.”
Jack put his arm around her and drew her into his chest, then kissed the top of her head. He let his lips rest there for a while and tried to ignore that pang of guilt that stabbed him deeper with every word. “Everyone becomes perfect in death. All their faults, all the bad things they have done just get forgotten. I guess it's your brains way of helping you remember all the great things about them so that losing them doesn't kill you.”
“But losing him did kill you,” she said, “but you just kept on dying. It doesn't matter if he was perfect or not, it doesn't change how much it broke you.”
“I made him perfect for you. I thought it would be the best thing and help the pain. I didn't think he would come back and have to face the person that I created. He was more immortal than me in the end.”
“It's not the end though, is it?” Mica removed Jack's arm from around her shoulder. “Whether it was right or not, we created a brand new beginning and we just have to deal with what we've created.”
“You make him sound like a monster.”
She shook her head. “I don't know what he is, but he's my family and I have to try and find the real guy behind the fairy tales.”
Jack smiled. It was one of those dopey smiles that refused to go away no matter how much he told it to, so he let it grace his lips for a while. “He is perfect though, perfect in the most incomplete way.”
“And so are you.”
“Some might say it's a perfect match.” Jack took a breath. “So, crunch time, what are you going to do?”
“Fix it,” she said, “I don't know how but I will. I'm a Jones, fixing things is what we do.”
“Good.” Jack stood up and walked towards the door, then stopped and turned around. “If you could just omit this conversation for as long as you live that would really help me out.” With one hand on the door handle and the other in his pocket, Jack shot Mica a trademark wink and a smile, then left.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jack was sitting in the living room when he felt the presence of someone else behind him; he didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
“Enjoy your shower?”
“It was okay.” Ianto sat down beside him looking warm in a pair of pyjama bottoms and a grey t-shirt. “I feel a little better, but I still don't have a solution.”
“You'll find one,” Jack said, “there's always a way.”
“You think so?”
Jack took Ianto's hand and ran his fingers over his knuckles, then kissed it. “I brought you back from the dead, If I can do that then you can do this.”
“I'm sorry that I pushed you away. I just didn't think that it would solve any problems.”
“I was trying to help you relax and calm down a bit.”
Ianto leaned over and grabbed the back of Jack's neck, then pulled him into a kiss. “Kissing me like that does everything but calm me down.”
“Really?” Jack smiled against Ianto's lips.
“And sharing my shower really wouldn't have helped either.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
Jack hovered a breath away from his lovers lips. “You know Mica is in the kitchen right now, so it's probably not the best time to be doing this.” He smiled a little. “Scarring for life and all that jazz.”
“Shame.” Ianto let Jack go and relaxed back against the couch. “I suppose I have other things to do.”
“Such as?”
“Coffee,” Ianto said, “I need the strength and then maybe I could start trying to explain some things to Mica.”
“I like that Idea.”
At that moment a white cup appeared in front of Ianto's face.
“I saved you the bother.”
Ianto looked up and saw Mica smiling nervously as she took a sip of her coffee. “Thanks.” He took it.
“I hope it's okay. I'm not up to your standard quite yet. I think I need some lessons.”
“I could arrange that.” He sniffed it. “But it smells good.”
“It's not the smell I'm worried about.”
Ianto took a sip; it tasted sweet and strong. “It's not bad.”
“I'll give you two a moment,” Jack said. He pulled himself to his feet and looked out of the window. “I might go and see if the stars are out tonight.”
They watched Jack go, then looked at each other for a moment, each smiling in the exact same uncomfortable way. Mica took a deep breath
NEXT PART IS HERE.
“Mind if I sit down?” she said. “I think we need to talk.”
Chapter: 30
Rating: NC-17 for series
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto. Mica. David. Martha. Gwen/Rhys. Lois. Johnny/Rhiannon.
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 - Sorry for the mamoth delay. combination of university, ill health, computer problems and severe case of writers blockage.
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. ) Please remember to comment and this took so much to get out and im terrified nobody will read it after all the effort. Confidence is all-time low atm too :(
PART 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29
The walk home was silent but comfortable and Ianto's arm never left its position on Mica's shoulder; she snuggled into him, matching his pace step by step and walked against the wind on the way back to the cottage. When he opened the gate for them it came off the hinges and he made a mental note to fix it. It was times like this that Ianto usually had a quip on the tip of his tongue, but not this time. He said nothing. They walked up the cracked path, through the wilderness of the overgrown garden opened the door with a firm push and stepped into the warmth of the house.
Mica peeled her coat off with a little help and looked up at him. She opened her mouth to speak, she wanted to break the deafening silence between them, but there was nothing to say. She smiled tightly, the way that all Jones' did when they were uncomfortable, and backed away a little before looking down at her feet.
“Mica.” Ianto reached out to touch her but she backed away. It was almost as though the very thought of a touch had scared her. “What I did wasn't right, but--.”
Mica held up her hands and closed her eyes, trying to put another barrier between them, then sighed. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“I do.”
“Why don't you understand that I cant?” Mica shook her head. “Not tonight.”
“We have to.”
“No. No, we don't.”
Jack strode into the room from the kitchen. “Good walk?”
“Not really,” she said, “I'm sorry.” Mica walked past Jack and out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Jack looked between the closed door and Ianto then back again. “What happened?”
“Well, she doesn't think I'm perfect any more.”
Ianto hung his coat up and headed into the bathroom to dry his hair off. Jack followed.
“What did you do?”
“Exactly what you told me to,” Ianto said, “I took her for chips and told her something she didn't know. And now she hates me.”
“She could never hate you.” Jack put a hand on his shoulder only to have it shrugged away. “You're her hero.”
“Yeah, don't be so sure about that.”
“What exactly did you tell her?”
“Lisa,” he said, “I told her about Lisa.”
“And?”
Ianto walked into the bedroom and removed most of his clothes, throwing them expertly into the off-white linen hamper in the corner.
“And?” Jack stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment, then leaned on the frame. He waited for him to elaborate.
“What do you mean, 'and?'”
“I thought it was obvious what I meant.”
“And I think it's rather obvious how it went.” Ianto slumped down on the bed and held his head in his hands. “She can't forgive me.”
“Did she say that?”
“She didn't have to. I may not know her, but I know that crushed look in the depths of someone's eyes. She looked at me like someone had died Jack, and I think it was me.”
Ianto covered his face with his hands, slumped down onto the bed and lay there for a moment silently. “I shouldn't even care.”
“And why's that?”
“I like being alone Jack. I like having to answer only to myself. I was never the kind of man who wanted family fussing at his feet.”
Jack lay down beside him. “Not that you would admit anyway.”
“I don't like being the centre of attention, I'm not like you, I like to be the one who lurks in the background unseen and unheard. I shouldn't care that I've disappointed her, but sometimes it's like looking in a mirror.”
“She's your blood, she's you all over.”
“And how much of that is really her and how much is her forming herself in my image, or what she thought to be my image?”
Jack shrugged. “We'll never know.”
Ianto turned his head to face him for the first time. “How do I fix this?”
“You got a brain don'tcha?” Jack smiled. “She's just like you, so think, how would you make up with yourself?”
“I don't know. I can't think about anything right now, my mind is racing too much.” He put his hand on Jack's cheek and locked his gaze. “”Help me, please.”
“Okay.” Jack moved a little closer. “But first kiss me.”
“Is now really the time?”
“Yes.”
Ianto moved towards him and kissed him softly, letting his lips linger for a moment. “Now help me.”
“You call that a kiss?”
“I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, Jack.”
Jack sighed and hovered above the Welshman, placing a hand either side of his head, then covered his body with his weight. “And that is why I have to kiss you,” he said, “to rid your mind of all thought until you begin to see how simple the solution is.”
Ianto let Jack kiss him for a moment before he responded and wrapped his arms around him; he could feel the stress drip away as his lover melted into his mouth. He moved his hands across his back, slipping them underneath his shirt. Jack moved his kisses to the younger man's neck and Ianto arched his neck a little to allow him access. It felt good and right; it had seemed like forever since they had been alone together, but Ianto knew where it was going. The grind of Jack's hips and the williness of his body to surrender seemed just a little wrong given the circumstances. He allowed it for a moment, closing his eyes and resigning to the feeling of the warmth of his lips as they moved towards his collarbone.
“I'm going for a shower. “Ianto pushed Jack away suddenly, then rolled out from underneath him and stood up. “This isn't helping anyone.” He grabbed a towel from the radiator and slung it over his shoulder.
“Want company?”
“It's not that kind of shower.”
“I didn't mean--”
“I know.” Ianto sighed. “I just need a little time on my own.”
Jack grabbed Ianto's wrist as he prepared to walk away. “This isn't something that will go away if you ignore it.”
“I'm going in the shower Jack, not absconding to Greenland.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jack knocked on the bedroom door and waited a moment before entering. The room was dark, illuminated only by an old ceramic lamp beside her bed and the natural light of the sky from the window; Mica lay on the bed, her back to the door. Jack remembered seeing her as a child sulking in exactly the same way, and even though she was ten years older and more mature than a lot of people her age, she still managed to keep hold of that little bit of childishness.
He walked over to the bed, picking up the diary that had been thrown into the bin without another thought, and perched on the edge behind her back. He flicked through the pages, running his fingers over the ink and smiled to himself for a minute before closing it.
He sighed and his smile slowly faded to nothing. “Do you know how bad he feels?”
“So he should,” she said, “he lied to me.”
“No, he didn't.”
Mica sat up, but still didn't face him. “He made me believe he was someone he's not.”
“How?”
She turned around and took the diary, then held it in her hands and ran her fingers over the cover. She had spent years reading his diary over and over until every page was imprinted into her memory, but somehow it all felt a little different now. She lowered her eyes and softened her tone a little. “He never mentions what happened to her, not the truth.”
“And you think that he did that to lie about it?” Jack sighed. “You think that he wrote a diary so that his niece could find it and read it and think he was a hero?”
“I didn't say that.”
“These diaries were for him, not for anyone else. They were his therapy for his eyes only.”
“What did he need therapy for, he had you, wasn't that enough?”
Jack laughed out a breath of air and shook his head. “I really wish it were that simple.”
“You were together,” she said, “I mean I know it was complicated but he told you everything.”
“He told me everything, but he never spoke about her. It was too much.” Jack sat back against the headboard and she moved beside him. “He couldn't kill her, he loved her too much, but he had to watch me do it for his own good and I don't think he ever really forgave me for that.”
“You made him sound so perfect.” Mica rested her head on the headboard and turned it to the side. “All your stories about how brave he was and how much you loved him.” She smiled sadly. “Mam's just the same. You make him seem so perfect, like he could do no wrong and now I find this out and it's like I don't know what to believe any more.”
Jack put his arm around her and drew her into his chest, then kissed the top of her head. He let his lips rest there for a while and tried to ignore that pang of guilt that stabbed him deeper with every word. “Everyone becomes perfect in death. All their faults, all the bad things they have done just get forgotten. I guess it's your brains way of helping you remember all the great things about them so that losing them doesn't kill you.”
“But losing him did kill you,” she said, “but you just kept on dying. It doesn't matter if he was perfect or not, it doesn't change how much it broke you.”
“I made him perfect for you. I thought it would be the best thing and help the pain. I didn't think he would come back and have to face the person that I created. He was more immortal than me in the end.”
“It's not the end though, is it?” Mica removed Jack's arm from around her shoulder. “Whether it was right or not, we created a brand new beginning and we just have to deal with what we've created.”
“You make him sound like a monster.”
She shook her head. “I don't know what he is, but he's my family and I have to try and find the real guy behind the fairy tales.”
Jack smiled. It was one of those dopey smiles that refused to go away no matter how much he told it to, so he let it grace his lips for a while. “He is perfect though, perfect in the most incomplete way.”
“And so are you.”
“Some might say it's a perfect match.” Jack took a breath. “So, crunch time, what are you going to do?”
“Fix it,” she said, “I don't know how but I will. I'm a Jones, fixing things is what we do.”
“Good.” Jack stood up and walked towards the door, then stopped and turned around. “If you could just omit this conversation for as long as you live that would really help me out.” With one hand on the door handle and the other in his pocket, Jack shot Mica a trademark wink and a smile, then left.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jack was sitting in the living room when he felt the presence of someone else behind him; he didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
“Enjoy your shower?”
“It was okay.” Ianto sat down beside him looking warm in a pair of pyjama bottoms and a grey t-shirt. “I feel a little better, but I still don't have a solution.”
“You'll find one,” Jack said, “there's always a way.”
“You think so?”
Jack took Ianto's hand and ran his fingers over his knuckles, then kissed it. “I brought you back from the dead, If I can do that then you can do this.”
“I'm sorry that I pushed you away. I just didn't think that it would solve any problems.”
“I was trying to help you relax and calm down a bit.”
Ianto leaned over and grabbed the back of Jack's neck, then pulled him into a kiss. “Kissing me like that does everything but calm me down.”
“Really?” Jack smiled against Ianto's lips.
“And sharing my shower really wouldn't have helped either.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
Jack hovered a breath away from his lovers lips. “You know Mica is in the kitchen right now, so it's probably not the best time to be doing this.” He smiled a little. “Scarring for life and all that jazz.”
“Shame.” Ianto let Jack go and relaxed back against the couch. “I suppose I have other things to do.”
“Such as?”
“Coffee,” Ianto said, “I need the strength and then maybe I could start trying to explain some things to Mica.”
“I like that Idea.”
At that moment a white cup appeared in front of Ianto's face.
“I saved you the bother.”
Ianto looked up and saw Mica smiling nervously as she took a sip of her coffee. “Thanks.” He took it.
“I hope it's okay. I'm not up to your standard quite yet. I think I need some lessons.”
“I could arrange that.” He sniffed it. “But it smells good.”
“It's not the smell I'm worried about.”
Ianto took a sip; it tasted sweet and strong. “It's not bad.”
“I'll give you two a moment,” Jack said. He pulled himself to his feet and looked out of the window. “I might go and see if the stars are out tonight.”
They watched Jack go, then looked at each other for a moment, each smiling in the exact same uncomfortable way. Mica took a deep breath
NEXT PART IS HERE.
“Mind if I sit down?” she said. “I think we need to talk.”